


and don't let the police know anything

by littlecupkate



Series: scary love [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Blackmail, Crack Treated Seriously, Crime Lord Tom Riddle, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Morals? What Morals?, Not Beta Read, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Sugar Baby Harry Potter, Sugar Daddy Tom Riddle, Unhealthy Relationships, dark fluff i guess?, in chapter 11, p sure this falls under that tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecupkate/pseuds/littlecupkate
Summary: Ted Dirlod is dangerous, Harry Potter knows this for a fact, but the man was still his only hope at escaping a doomed fate. It is never wise to blackmail a crime lord. It is even more unwise(?) when said crime lord is obsessed with you.An expanded version of "praying to whatever's in heaven, please send me a felon"
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: scary love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803454
Comments: 146
Kudos: 551





	1. main street cleaners and tailors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting and Harry's observations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is also from Female Robbery by The Neighbourhood. I chose the next line to continue the theme from the shorter version of this story.

“Ted Milord” was Main Street Cleaners and Tailors’ most frequent customer. Main Street had been the only place that would hire Harry when his guardians demanded he get a job. It was a two mile walk from his house, but any place closer had been listening to Petunia’s gossip too long to even give him a chance. The owner, Arabella Figg, had warned Harry about Ted as soon as he moved to night shifts after two years of working in the often barren shop.

“There’s a customer, very nice and a good tipper too, that comes here quite frequently. His suits tend to have... questionable material on them but don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure he’s a spy or undercover operative!” Her voice sped up in excitement as she continued, “So there’s nothing to worry about! I’m just letting you know so you won’t be alarmed the first time he comes in. Ted typically comes in at night, so you will run into him at some point. Just ignore the blood. He’s our best customer and we can’t have him feeling unwelcome.” Figg went back to ridding her husband’s clothes of the cat hair layered on them. Harry suspected that was the reason she opened the shop in the first place; it got too expensive to continue to pay for dry cleaning.

Harry met Ted the next week and was not ashamed to admit that the first time he came in, he stared. Part of it was the smell coming from the bag he brought in, the metallic smell was pretty overwhelming, but a bigger part was his looks. He could see how Mrs. Figg entertained herself with notions of James Bond. Ted was as handsome as any movie star. He did find that ignoring the blood was a bit harder than he anticipated. It was not a small amount. Rather, it seemed that he soaked the thing in red dye before he brought it to them for cleaning. Harry wished he could convince himself that was the case but the metallic smell insured he could not delude himself.

“You are new here.” The man said blandly, snapping Harry out of his daze.

“I’m new to this shift.” Harry corrected, pushing aside his homework to actually do his job, “I’ve worked here for two years.”

“Interesting,” Ted didn’t sound the least bit interested as he handed over the bag. He glanced at the homework Harry had pushed aside. “You got number five incorrect.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry gave his best customer service smile, not wanting to get on Ted’s bad side—he had a feeling this man could cost him his job if he wasn’t careful—“for your patronage and your homework help.” The man gave a faint smirk in response before leaving the shop. After he took the bag to the backroom, Harry sighed and pulled his homework back in front of him to find the mistake he made. 

“You really struggle with chemistry, don’t you?” Ted asked, amused. He came in often enough at night that Harry was truly surprised Mrs. Figg had never mentioned him to Harry when he was working the day shift. Harry had a feeling that Ted was keeping the whole place in business on his own. Harry had wondered before; the day shift had so few customers that he had thought Mrs. Figg must be involved in some illegal activities to keep the shop open.

Harry made a face in response to Tom’s comment. It had become routine for Ted to steal Harry’s homework away as Harry found his dry cleaning whenever he came in. “If I’m above failing I’m doing alright,” Harry answered, handing over the garment bag.

Ted’s eyebrows raised, no longer amused. “That’s an awful attitude to have. What do your parents say?”

“Nothing, they’re dead.” Harry deadpanned. Ted’s face didn’t collapse in pity like most other people, so Harry kept talking. “My aunt and uncle share my attitude. As long as the school doesn’t bother them, they don’t care what I do.”

Ted huffed in annoyance, “So you don’t care either?”

“No, I don’t care because…” Harry’s mind scrambled to find words that would articulate his meaning without causing alarm, “I don’t care because I do not anticipate ever having to use chemistry in my life.”

“Never want to make explosives then?” Ted said jokingly, and Harry shrugged, because he couldn’t honestly agree with that statement. Harry sighed, hoping to end the conversation sooner rather than later.

“I suppose I might have to put more effort into chemistry.” He smiled at Ted and Ted smirked back. That was something Harry had noticed—Ted never genuinely smiled in happiness. His smile was always a smirk, or smug or belittling in some way. A smirk was one of the best options to get, all things considered. “Thank you for your patronage and your advice, sir,” Harry said as Ted left.

The next morning, Harry casually swiped his Uncle’s newspaper from the recycling bin and read it on his way to school. As he had expected, there was an article about the disappearance and death of Bertha Jorkins, an elderly woman who worked as a lobbyist for big banks. She habitually took walks in the local state park, and unfortunately, last week on her trip, she had stumbled off the path. She must have had some type of encounter with an animal and ended up the worse for it. Bertha was found dead yesterday.

Harry thought he was wrong to compare Ted’s beauty to a movie star. It seemed a better comparison would be to Ted Bundy. After all, this was the last part of the routine. Ted would drop off his clothes, always stinking of rust, and Harry would watch the newspaper for a few days. Inevitably, there would be an announcement of some disappearance or death. Sometimes it was concluded that they had run away; other times, bodies were found; rarely did anything point to murder, but the timing was too perfect for Harry to buy the official story. He was just waiting for his suspicions to be confirmed.

The night Ted came in with his clothes still bloodied Harry decided he was going to keep evidence.

It was a quarter past midnight when the bell above the door alerted Harry to a customer’s entrance. “Ted,” he acknowledged, before glancing up and taking a step back in surprise and horror.

“Harry,” The man acknowledged, pleasant as always, “Would you mind leaving an outfit outside the bathroom? I have had a bit of an... altercation tonight and would feel it would be best to get out of these clothes. They will need to be cleaned too, of course, so I was hoping I could leave them with you.” His handsome smile almost distracted Harry from the gruesome scene. Harry nodded wordlessly. Ted strode over to the bathroom, though it was supposed to be employees-only, and Harry went into the back room to find his cleaned clothes. He knocked on the door and turned away as it opened, thrusting the hangers out towards Ted.

“Thank you.” Harry could hear the charm in Ted’s voice. A plastic bag was handed back to him, “Here’s what I need to drop off.” The door closed again and Harry hurried to the backroom. Technically, he should make the ticket and tie it to the bag in front of Ted, but Harry didn’t think the man would mind in this case. If it was what Harry suspected (there was not a doubt in his mind that it was), he thought Ted would be rather glad to have the bag out of sight.

Ted came out of the bathroom, looking completely unruffled. His hands were cleared of blood. There was not a hair out of place. If Harry hadn’t seen him when he first walked in, he would have thought him a regular wealthy, well-dressed gentleman. He wondered how often Ted was in situations like these if he had cleaning up down to such an art. “Thank you,” Ted’s grin was a little sharper than Harry had seen before, his grey eyes a bit more wild, but he was composed. Harry glanced down at his hands as he passed over the receipt and the rest of Ted’s dry cleaning, noticing that there weren’t even spots of blood underneath his fingernails.

“You’re welcome, sir.” Harry hoped Ted didn’t notice how fake his customer service smile was, or at least would pass it off as normal. Harry’s smiles had been getting stiffer and faker as the months wore on, but Ted hadn’t given any indication of noticing so far.

“It was still a great favor,” Ted put a five twenty pound notes in the tip jar. “I hope I didn’t disturb you too much.” He was perfectly relaxed, while Harry was on the edge of hysteria.

“It’s not the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Harry lied, although to be honest he didn’t understand why so many costumers made their goods dry clean only. It was especially mind-boggling when you consider some of them definitely weren’t meant to see the light of day.

Ted raised an eyebrow, “I am glad I am not in your line of work then.” He said as a parting comment and finally left the shop.

Technically, they were open until two, but as soon as Harry was sure Ted’s car was out of sight, he flipped the sign to closed, locked the door, and went into the backroom. He grabbed the phone and dialed emergency services but stopped before he pressed talk. A breath in, a breath out.

Was it the best decision? What if Ted retaliated? What if he was overreacting?

_ Overreacting? _ Harry questioned himself,  _ Yes, because bloody clothes coming in before people’s deaths left a lot of room for interpretation. Serial killer, who? Ted? Never. _

Still, Harry put the phone down. He donned a new pair of plastic gloves, retrieved a fresh trash bag from the storage room, and started to take Ted’s clothing out. On the suit jacket there was a piece of unidentifiable grossness that Harry pulled off, making sure some of the wool fibers were still attached. He turned the glove inside out and plopped into the empty trash bag then put it aside. Next, he pulled out the shirt, unfortunately there wasn’t anything he could pull off of it, but he turned the glove inside out and put it in the trash bag just the same. The blood could speak for itself. On Ted’s pants there were strands of hair and more unidentified grossness which Harry collected. Harry really suspected it was gray matter but didn’t want to consider that too much. Idly, he wondered how such a gruesome death would be ruled anything but a murder. Once he placed the clothes back in the bag and put it in the ‘to-wash’ basket, Harry ventured into the bathroom.

He looked at the bathroom trash can, which was filled with bloody paper towels, and debated just taking the whole thing as evidence, but decided it would be better to separate out what Ted had used. He didn’t want his evidence to get contaminated. Inside the trash bag Harry was using to store the evidence, he placed brownish-red paper towels, hoping that there was some of Ted’s DNA and not just the victim’s blood. Once finished, Harry shuddered and stuffed the bag into his backpack before flipping the sign to open, hoping no one would come in while he was still so shaken.

On the way home that night, he walked past the police station. He paused outside of it, his backpack already part way open before he quickly zipped it back up and hurried to Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry feared that they would arrest him. He was sure he would be released once they processed the evidence, but he really didn’t want Uncle Vernon to get a call from the police. His family was not tolerant in general. Although they had never physically abused him (or, at least Aunt Petunia never had and Harry doubted Uncle Vernon’s actions would be found criminal instead of disciplinary), he would not put it past them if he pushed them too much. Plus, he already had a bad reputation thanks to Petunia’s gossip. He didn’t need it to become worse because of a wrongful arrest.

Instead, once he was inside his room, Harry pried up a floorboard and stuffed the bag inside. The next day, Harry stole the newspaper out of the trash and let it join the bag under the floorboard. For once, there was a report of a murder; he supposed he was right that a scene that gruesome would be impossible to cover up. 

Harry continued to add his collection of evidence each time Ted came into the shop. Although none of his clothing was anywhere near as gory as that day, there were still blood, fibers, and hair he could gather off Ted’s suits. After Ted left, Harry would print a duplicate copy of his receipt and take it home with him. The next day, Harry would swipe the newspaper and keep clippings of any articles on disappearances. He became a dedicated reader of the obituaries, circling any that he thought Ted might be linked to. Harry placed them with his forensic records and receipts. After nine months of doing this, Harry knew that if anyone ever found his hiding place, he would be accused of murder. There were about three dozen sandwich bags of collected evidence, and if that wasn’t damning enough, the newspapers made him look like he was a killer obsessed with his own media coverage.

Many times Harry wondered why he hadn’t handed his evidence collection over to the police yet. It wasn’t his place to be investigating this. It didn’t matter how good Ted was at academics or how nice he was to talk to: he was still a murderer. Each time Harry moved to place his collection in a bag and drop it off at the police station, he would come up with one fear or another that stopped him. Most of the time it was the same fears that stopped him the first night, but sometimes he got creative.  _ Maybe Ted had sources in the justice system. Maybe they won’t look to prove his innocence and he’d be stuck in prison the rest of his life. No, no, it was much safer to just keep collecting evidence until he could figure out a fool-proof way to turn it in without making himself seem suspicious.  _

Eventually, Harry had to wonder why he was even bothering to collect evidence anymore. He was pretty sure most of the samples were too old to be used. But collecting the evidence had become habitual, so Harry kept doing it. After every pleasant conversation with Ted, Harry would go through the routine.

Then, the night of the first frost, Harry came up with a use for his collection.

Harry had his usual shift at Main Street, which ended at two in the morning. He had debated stealing a coat, but decided that it wasn’t worth his job. Instead, Harry packed his homework away in his backpack and hugged his light jacket as close as possible to his body. Taking a deep breath, he exited the dry cleaners’, locked the door, activated the alarm, and then turned and ran home.

He jumped over fences and cut through people’s pristine lawns in an effort to shorten the time it took to get to his house. It worked, but by the time he arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive, he was out-of-breath and sweating.  _ At least I’m not cold anymore _ , Harry thought as he approached the front door. He twisted the handle but the door wouldn’t move. It was locked.

This wasn’t unusual. The Dursleys liked when he took night shifts because he would earn more money, but they wouldn’t stay up to see him home safe and they didn’t trust him enough to give him a copy of the house key. Most times, he slept in the backyard but it really was too cold to do that that night. Harry looked despairingly at the door and considered his options. The sweat he worked up from running was starting to dry. Deciding to take his chances, Harry rang the doorbell. And rang it again. And again.

It took more than a dozen rings for Vernon to answer the door. He roughly grabbed Harry’s arm and dragged him inside. Harry was too glad for the warmth to be bothered by the roughness. “We told you boy! If you work this late, then you’re going to get locked out!” He yelled like it was Harry’s decision to take those shifts.

Vernon dragged him through the kitchen and flung open the backdoor. He pushed Harry outside then punched him in the stomach. “Don’t you dare wake us up again!”

Harry didn’t listen and knocked frantically on the backdoor. He didn’t know how long he knocked, but even though he must have woken somebody up, no one came to let him in. His sweat froze, adding to the cold he experienced. Harry became too tired to continue knocking, but he didn’t dare sleep. He wasn’t sure he would wake up if he did. Instead, he tried to keep moving his tired, frozen limbs. It was the only thing he could think to do.

At about six in the morning, Petunia finally came downstairs. She took her time opening the door. Harry shivered and moved upstairs as fast as he could, hoping he could beat Vernon to the shower. He dropped his bag in his room and barely remembered to grab a towel before entering the bathroom. The lukewarm water hitting his frozen skin hurt. After showering, Harry dressed himself in as many layers as possible. Finally he turned to his backpack to empty it. He froze, eyes on the bag before quickly turning away.

He lifted the floorboard up and stared at his collection. It might not be the best idea to blackmail a serial killer, but Harry couldn’t think of any better options. He couldn’t go through another night like that again. He put the floorboard back in its place and backed up until he felt the bed on the back of his knees. Harry scrambled back on the bed and wrapped his thin blanket around him.

This was a really, really bad idea.

It was his only chance.

Once he finished schooling, he would be kicked out of his relatives’ house. He was only there because they wanted the money that came with keeping him while he was in school. Once he graduated, that would be gone. He would be homeless and without the slightest bit of money. He wouldn’t be able to go to college. He would probably be fired from his job.

Harry figured he would be dead within a year.

In that light, blackmail didn’t seem so bad.


	2. blackmail and negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry confronts Ted with the evidence of his wrong-doing but it turns out Ted isn't quite who Harry thinks he is

Harry chose five pieces from his collection and put them in his backpack. He was working that night and wanted to be prepared if Ted came in. It was unlikely, being the Christmas holidays and all, but Harry was eager to be done with this. His hand shook as he wrote a note to leave with the rest of his collection on his bed. If he never came home, he knew they would eventually be found. It wasn’t much, but it was the best plan he had at the moment. He was too invested in getting it done to spend much time planning.

It took a week for Ted to finally appear. By that time, he was starting to worry if Ted would ever come back. For some strange reason, Ted typically came in two times a week, so a whole week of no interaction was unusual.

“No homework today?” Ted asked, sauntering up to the counter.

“You missed your chance. It’s winter vacation; I got it all done last week.”

“Damn,” Ted frowned, “If I knew going out of town would affect your education I would have waited.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I am eighteen, you know. I don’t need to have someone look over my homework before I turn it in.” Harry took the bag of dirty clothes into the back room. He picked up Ted’s clean clothes and the five plastic bags. “I can take responsibility for my own bad decisions.” Harry hung the clothes up on a rack instead of handing them to Ted and spread the bags out on the counter.

“What are these?” Ted asked, nose wrinkling up in disgust. Pretty rich considering it all came off of his clothes.

“My latest bad decision,” Harry took a deep breath then pointed to the leftmost bag, “This contains blood and hair from a Bertha Jorkins as well as fibers from your suit jacket and a receipt from when you dropped the clothes off. The day after Ms. Jorkins disappeared but a day before her body was found. The cause of death was said to be an animal attack. I assume you bribed someone in the coroner's office.” He moved his finger down the line, “Dorcas Meadowes; cause of death: natural causes. Quirinus Quirrell; cause of death: suicide. The Dearborn Family; cause of death: murder. Frank Bryce; cause of death: natural causes. You clean up nicely, I have to admit. In the eleven months I’ve been watching you, only three cases were actually ruled murders. It would be a shame if they had to exhume poor Bertha’s body to see if she should be added to that number.”

“You surely are not implying I had anything to do with these tragic deaths?” Ted seemed excited by Harry’s demonstration, “I have not been anything but kind to you. Why would you suspect me of such horrid deeds?” He didn’t sound like he considered the deeds too horrid at all.

“No, you’ve been very pleasant to me,” Harry agreed, “I’m guessing you didn’t give Myrtle Warren the same courtesy based on the piece of her gray matter I collected.”

“No, I did not.” Ted agreed, voice darker now. Harry was surprised that Ted admitted to her murder so easily, “But the way you are talking makes me think I might have to be a little less civil. You know, part of the reason I come here is, that in addition to your boss’s quite astonishing level of naivety, that there is no video surveillance around. Not even traffic cameras.”

“I know,” In one fast movement, Harry raked his nails down the side of Ted’s face and moved backwards. It wasn’t much but the counter at least provided a bit of an obstacle. Down the side of Ted’s face were four bright pink lines, one of them dripping blood.

“But I have collateral.” Harry had been growing his nails out. It was good to see his work, and Dudley's teasing about girl nails, weren’t all for nothing.

“That can easily be taken care of,” Ted said darkly.

“You don’t know where I live.”

“Which can easily be fixed.” Ted walked over to the door, flipped the sign to “closed,” and locked it.

“Maybe,” Harry struggled to keep a confident note in his voice, “However, everyone knows my last whereabouts. There is enough evidence for you to at least be suspected of murder.” His eyes flickered to the cash register. It would show the last person known to see him alive. Harry wasn’t totally stupid and would avoid pointing that out in case Ted did end up killing him. “But it all seems like an inconvenience. You don’t seem to be a man who tolerates those, so perhaps you should just listen to what I have to say instead.”

“What do you want?” Ted sounded far less nervous than Harry had hoped for, but at least he was asking,

“I want you to sponsor me until I finish my education, up to and including a doctorate if I so choose. Once I complete my A-levels I will expect the sponsorship to start and include housing.” Harry’s chin tilted up defiantly.

“That sounds like more of an inconvenience than simply killing you.” Ted had been making his way behind the counter while distracting Harry with talking, by now he had him in a corner.

“You were the one who said I should put more effort into my education.” Harry looked up at him, finally realizing the position he was in but refusing to back down. If these were his last few moments on Earth then, well, at least it would be a better story than freezing to death because of his guardians’ neglect. “I thought you would have jumped at the chance.”  _ That was an inside thought _ , Harry berated himself,  _ you don’t say inside thoughts to the serial killer damnit _ .

“I am the one who said that...,” Ted mused, “I will have conditions.” Harry felt his heart soar and tried to tamper down disbelief and hope. “First, I want to know why you take what you obviously know is a suicidal action?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters if you do not want to die. If you have a good reason, I might decide to indulge you,” Ted shrugged. Harry really hated that although he was the one trying to blackmail Ted, Ted was still the one in control.

“My relatives are going to kick me out when the school year ends. I want to make myself into someone more than a homeless beggar.”

“Most people do,” Ted smiled, “Let us be clear here,  _ Harry _ . If I decide to do this, it means I control your life. What you eat, what you study, who you talk to. It will all be my decision.”

“As I see it, you already hold my life in your hands now.”

“Very true,” Ted grinned sharply, “I will have a written agreement when I return in three days.” Ted drew back a bit, giving Harry more room to breathe. “You can either accept it or forfeit your life.”

Harry couldn’t believe his luck. He nodded and gestured to the bags still on the counter, “I assume you will want to take those with you.”

“A gesture of good faith from you, I am sure,” Ted replied dryly, “I will see you soon, Harry.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ted finally left the shop. Now he just had to hope it wasn’t a trick. 

Tom laughed once he was back in his car. He held the plastic bags up in front of him; really, it was so undignified that he was being blackmailed with  _ this _ . Harry was quite lucky that he was one of the few people Tom liked. This plan was the epitome of Harry: clever but too brash. Tom could kill him, would if he ended up needing to, but he was glad he didn’t, so far at least.

Tom laughed again. Harry had tried to blackmail Tom into taking care of him, keeping him close. Little did he know it just made Tom’s plans easier. Tom knew where he lived. Tom knew where he went to school. Tom knew the route he walked to work and back. Tom enjoyed Harry. He wasn’t planning on letting him get away. Ever. This was simply more favorable than straight-up kidnapping him. The poor oblivious boy had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“Wait around the corner,” Tom told his driver, “I want to see where Harry goes tonight.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Tom didn’t see a wire on Harry, but given the boy’s strong morals, it would not be a surprise if he had already gone to the police and was just trying to get a confession. The desperation in Harry’s eyes made him doubt it was a setup, but the possibility still existed and Tom had to watch his back. He had become far too complacent. Even if he ended up needing to kill Harry, Tom would have to thank him for bringing that to his attention.

At two in the morning, an hour after the last customer had come in (Tom himself), Harry locked the door. Tom smirked. To leave work when the shop closed, Harry must have been cleaning up long before it was time to.

The car crawled along in the dark. Tom was a bit incensed to see that Harry didn’t even turn around or check behind him once. On the upside, he didn’t even hesitate in front of the police station.

It looked as though he would be able to keep Harry. 

Tom had Harry followed for the next two nights, and since Harry still showed no signs of double-crossing him, Tom gleefully put the contract together. Three nights later, he walked back into Main Street Cleaners and plopped a stack of papers on the counter. Harry immediately put his book aside and grabbed the papers.

“The short of it is that in exchange for destroying all your blackmail on me, I will allow you to live in my home, provide for your education, and take care of you in general.”

“All but one piece,” Harry countered, “I need something better than only your word that you won’t decide to just kill me.”

“I am hurt, darling,” Tom dramatically put his hand over his heart. “I would never betray you.”

Harry gave him an unamused look. “And when I have proof of that, I’ll destroy all the blackmail. Until then, I am keeping three pieces of evidence.”

“Smart boy,” Tom responded. Harry lifted his chin in pride. Tom didn’t tell him he would have killed anyone else that questioned him like that. He didn’t want Harry to back out before he really trapped him, “You can keep one piece. That is my final offer.”

“Agreed,” Harry looked smug, as if Tom had actually lost something by compromising with him. Well, whatever would make him happy, Tom supposed. He took the stack of papers back from Harry and changed the paragraph before passing them back over again.

“Satisfied?” Tom asked, Harry nodded and pulled a pen out of the cup. At the bottom of the contract, he signed his name with flourish. Tom took the papers again and placed his own signature at the bottom. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Harry.”

“You too, Ted,”

Tom’s smile sharpened, “Please, call me Tom. You and I are going to be spending too much time together for you to use an alias.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise then narrowed, “Why the hell would you chose Ted as an alias-“

Tom cut him off to respond, “Ted Drilold is an anagram of Tom Riddle.”

“Great, that makes it an even worse alias. You know, part of the reason I figured out you were a serial killer was because Ted made me think of Ted Bundy. Maybe try another anagram.”

“I worry that your first thought when you hear the name Ted is Ted Bundy.”

“Do you have a different one?” Harry raised an eyebrow. Tom was silent. “Thought so. Try ‘Tim’ next time.”

“I appreciate your help with getting away with any crimes I may or may not commit.”

Harry glowered at Tom, then let his face fall into a bland, fixed smile. “Is there anything else I can do for you? If not, I must inform you we are nearing closing time.”

“You do not close for another hour.”

“As I said, nearing closing time.”

Tom let out a hefty sigh, “Fine, fine, I can take a hint.”

“Thank you for your business—”

“You are most welcome, love,” Tom grinned, “And do not worry, I will definitely be back soon.”

The next time Tom went to the dry cleaners’, Harry passed him a bag. Tom raised his eyebrows in silent question.

“All the evidence I collected, except for one piece. I assume you would want to see it destroyed yourself rather than just take my word for it.”

“Thoughtful.”

“Not really,” Harry took out another bag and passed it over to Tom, “This is for wherever you are going to set me up.”

“You do realize that you are not moving in until summer, correct?”

“I want those to be in a safer place than they are currently,” Harry said, his eyes dark.

Tom kept his smugness internal. Despite Harry’s words, he must trust Tom on some level to give him such obviously treasured belongings. “What is in it?”

“Some of my parents’ belongings.” Harry’s eyes never strayed from the bag. “My aunt Petunia gave them to me for my last birthday. I doubt she even knows what was in the box, and I don’t trust my relatives not to take them back if they ever do snoop.”

Tom bit back his questions. He did not have the leeway to ask Harry personal questions, not since he had admitted thar Harry hadn’t even known his real name for all the discussions they’d had. “I will keep them safe.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Harry looked as if he wanted to add something, probably a threat, but he stopped himself, perhaps realizing there was nothing he could actually threaten Tom with. 

Harry spread out various letters in front of Tom in a move eerily reminiscent of when he had first presented Tom with blackmail.

“What is this?” Tom asked. He wasn’t even there to drop off or pick up clothes, he was just visiting Harry.

“My college acceptance letters. I figured you should give me your opinion, since you are the one sponsoring me.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, “If I am not mistaken, you are expecting me to pay regardless. Why would you want my opinion?”

“I don’t know,” Harry dropped his head into his hands, “I don’t have any friends or family to discuss this with! I didn’t expect to be able to go to college, never mind have my pick of five!”

“Why did you apply to them?”

“They had the shortest applications,” Harry replied honestly. “What? Don’t give me that look! I have school, then chores, then work, during which I try to get my homework done, then like four hours of sleep before I’m back at school! My relatives certainly weren’t going to shorten their miles-long chore list just so I could apply to college! They had the shortest applications so I could apply to more colleges, which helped because I didn’t actually look at any of them.”

“I think that might be the most insane thing I have ever heard,” Tom muttered before he took the acceptance letters. Interesting, some of these colleges Tom had actually looked into before he decided to go to Oxford. “What do you want to major in?”

“I don’t know.” The reply seemed automatic, so Tom stared at Harry, waiting for a more honest one. A few minutes later, it became obvious that that was all he was going to get.

Tom sighed, “You have no ideas at all?” Harry shook his head. 

“Fine. Do you want an urban or rural setting then?”

“Urban.” At least he had that figured out.

“Would you want to stay in England?”

“It would be easiest,” Harry agreed.

“Yes, it would be,” Tom put the Hogwarts acceptance letter face down, as well as two from other universities. Only two left. That was better. “Would you prefer a large or small university?”

“Mid-sized, I think.” 

“Congratulations,” Tom spun one of the letters towards Harry, “You will be going to Stinchcombe University in London.”

“Well, I suppose I should look it up now,” Harry smiled. It was adorable, although Tom was still appalled by Harry’s lack of planning. He took out his phone and looked up the university on Google.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom smiled, “I will handle everything for you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “I don’t recall giving you permission to just take over my life.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “How are you planning to research your university then?”

“I’ll figure something out!” Harry said, flushing angrily.

“I am sure you could, darling.” Tom thought his voice sounded very soothing, but based on Harry’s scowl he guessed it did not come across that way to him. “But wouldn’t it be much easier to let me handle everything for you?”

“Easier doesn’t necessarily mean wiser,” Harry argued back. “This is my thing! I should be the one doing it!”

Tom was starting to regret conceding to Harry’s demands instead of straight-up kidnapping him. It was like Harry actually thought he had the upper hand because of Tom’s acquiescence. “But you will have obstacles, while I will not.”

“Obstacles are just a part of life! And they are minor inconveniences at worst.”

“They do not have to be.” Tom had a shark’s smile. Harry shuddered slightly and Tom’s smile turned into a smirk, “And they definitely do not have to be a part of your life, darling. Let me take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Harry crossed his arms, “I told you, this is my thing.”

“I believe you made it so all of your things are my things—“

“— No, we have a business agreement. I didn’t marry you or anything.”

_ Not yet _ , Tom thought and let his smirk widened the slightest bit, “Nevertheless—“

“No,” Harry looked stubborn as a mule, “Thank you for choosing Main Street Cleaner and Tailors. Come again soon!” Harry obstinately went into the backroom. Tom rolled his eyes. Harry wouldn’t be able to hide behind his customer service persona forever, but Tom let it go for the day. It was obvious that the argument would just go around in circles. 

The next time Tom came in, he had a printed out stack of papers for Harry. Harry had his own stack of papers in front of him and as Tom saw the logo on the top of them, he pressed his lips together. They looked exactly the same as Tom’s stack, which he had printed out as a compromise.

“I thought I told you I would take care of that,” Tom said, putting his stack of papers on the counter. Harry glanced over at them, then back at the forms he had been filling out.

“And I told you I would handle it. That is a waste of paper could have been avoided if you just listened to me.”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Tom’s voice became a bit chilled. “It does not look like you have any more information on the school.”

“I only have so much time.”

“Then what I printed is not a waste of paper.” Tom pushed the stack towards Harry, “All of this is directly from their website.”

“Thank you.” It sounded like it hurt Harry to get those words out.

Tom smiled, big and superior. “You are very welcome, love.”

The shop became quiet but for the scratching of Harry’s pencil for a good few minutes. Harry put one page to the side and looked up, wearing a pained expression. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“And if I am?”

“Then you could be a little more useful.” Harry pushed the completed form over to Tom. “It would be best if these were submitted online,” he said with a pointed look towards Tom’s smartphone.

“You really have a big problem asking for help, don’t you,” Tom mused as he took the paper, “What is your login?” Harry grabbed the paper back, scribbled down the details, then pushed it back towards Tom.

“Only put in what I wrote on the paper,” Harry said, eyeing Tom distrustfully.

“Of course, darling,” Tom said dismissively, pulling the paper closer to him. It wasn’t the compromise that Tom had planned, but he supposed he could accept this result. It took more trust than Harry had probably thought about to share his email and password with Tom. The two men fell silent again as they worked in tandem, filling out forms then having them transcribed. It was only when Harry finished filling out his forms and reading the pages Tom had provided that he looked up at the clock and realized they had been working for much longer than he had expected.

“It’s past closing time.”

Tom put his phone down. He had finished putting the forms into the website a long while ago and was amusing himself with guessing when Harry would notice the time. “See how nice things can be when you aren’t kicking me out?”

Harry’s face became a mask of annoyance, “You knew that it was past closing.” Tom shrugged. “Damnit, you do realize that I don’t get to sleep when I get home, right?”

Tom straightened up, “Why would you not? It is a weekend night.”

“Because of my relatives,” Harry answered vaguely. “It’s not important, just get out.”

“It is important,” Tom’s look darkened, both from Harry’s answer and his dismissal, “Tell me.”

“No,”

“I am not leaving until you tell me,” Tom said with finality. 

To his surprise, Harry gave in, “I have to make breakfast for my relatives when I get home, then do chores before they will let me sleep but odds are Dudley is going to be too loud for me to fall asleep anyway.” He sighed. “At least it's not winter anymore, being locked outside in the spring is much nicer.”

“Locked outside?” Tom’s grew angrier but Harry just shrugged.

“My relatives don’t trust me to have a key and they aren’t going to stay awake to let me in,” Harry scoffed. 

“Are you telling me that this whole winter you have been sleeping outside and you did not tell me?!?” Tom demanded furiously, “You blackmailed me into taking care of you! Did it not occur to you that making sure you do not freeze to death is part of taking care of you?!”

“Relax,” Harry rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I sleep outside in the cold every night. After Vernon made his position clear, I decided to just stay at the cleaners’.”

“How much sleep did you get?” Tom asked with gritted teeth. “I know the shop opens again at five.”

“Sleeping is less important than not freezing to death.” Harry avoided Tom’s stare. After a few minutes, he sighed and gave in. “I slept about an hour and a half. Mrs. Figg comes in an hour before the shop opens and I had to leave before she found me.”

“It is no wonder you look like death.” Tom shook his head, “This is not continuing. I am taking you now.”

“You can’t!” Harry blurted out in alarm, “I have to make sure the Dursleys aren’t hiding any other of my parents’ possessions!”

“How about this: I kidnap you, then I ransack the house,” Tom wasn’t really intending to give Harry an option but the boy did not seem to understand that.

“No! It’s only two more months and it’s much warmer now. I want to see this out.”

“Why?” Tom was truly baffled. If someone had said they could take him away from Marvolo and Morfin.... Well, he probably wouldn’t trust them for the life of him, but Harry knew Tom had promised to take care of him. It was reinforced with blackmail, even! There was no reason to refuse!

“I just... I just need to see it out.” Harry crossed his arms stubbornly, “I’m not moving yet.”

Tom quickly ran the calculations in his head. He could kidnap Harry like he had originally planned to, but since it was the middle of the school year there was a chance he would be reported missing. And while Tom trusted that Stockholm Syndrome would eventually come about, he would still have to deal with Harry’s likely unpleasant reaction. On the other hand, if he gave in, Harry would get it into his head that he had even more power than he already thought he did. Tom wasn’t keen on the amount of compromises he was making already. Ultimately, Tom decided that continuing to allow Harry his false sense of security was the best option. Let Harry think he could play, and by the time he realized he was helpless, he would be too far in to get out.

“Two months,” Tom growled, “I will generously give you this time to do what you will. But remember, love, your life is mine in two months. I would not keep pushing your luck.”

Harry’s face was scornful. Tom was satisfied. Let him stay oblivious and arrogant; Tom wouldn’t give Harry room to say that he wasn’t warned, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to make the boy understand. Besides, if Harry's health got worse, Tom could always kidnap him. He could deal with Harry’s initial displeasure if it meant his safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom is a little creep but I'm pretty sure that's 1000% in character for him lol
> 
> Thank you to all who commented :sluglove: I'm sorry to not responding to them all individually but I do appreciate each and every one of them. Hope you liked the chapter!


	3. a new home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry moves in with Tom. Our favorite creeper is still a complete creep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, I would like to say that their relationship does get less unhealthy in later chapters but Tom's pretty much still super obsessed and creepy af. I feel like I should add that to the tags...
> 
> Also, if any of you noticed the chapter number go up it is because I realized this chapter was about twice as long as the two previous and split it in two. I will also be uploading the second part of the chapter tonight. Just a warning, I have this whole first part of the series written but I can't promise I won't do this again with future chapters.

Harry watched out the window, waiting impatiently for Tom to arrive. His aunt and uncle glaring at him all the while. He managed to avoid being kicked out last night by explaining someone was coming to get him in the morning but they were as impatient to get him out of their house as he was to leave it. Some type of luxury car, Harry didn’t know what brand, he wasn’t very interested in that sort of thing, rolled up in front of the house. Harry had never seen what type of car Tom drove but he had no doubt it was him. Harry wondered if this would confirm his relatives’ suspicions that he was going off with some type of criminal riffraff or not. They weren’t exactly wrong in all honesty but he didn’t think anyone could call Tom riffraff. Tom stepped out of the driver’s seat, sunglasses on, wearing a white button-up and black slacks. He had forgone the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up, all excusable for the summer weather. Instead of coming up the walk, Tom leaned against the car, smirking. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, it was such a weak power move.

“My friend came,” Harry grabbed the backpack and walked towards the door but stopped before he could leave, “He’s a barrister, by the way, so if you have any other family heirlooms that belong to me, it would be prudent to give them to me now rather than have me come after you for all that you’re worth.”

Vernon scoffed, “You? Making friends with a barrister? Ha! Get out of my house, boy!”

Harry stiffened and turned to look at Vernon, “What else of mine do you have?”

“W-What?”

“You told me to get out of your house. You didn’t tell me that you gave me all of my possessions. Now what else of mine do you have?” Harry said getting progressively angrier.

“Leave-!” Vernon started to shout but the doorbell cut him off. Harry guessed Tom had got tired of waiting. Harry threw open the door,

“They have more of my parents’ things!” He exclaimed, not bothering to greet him.

Tom’s eyebrows raised and he looked past Harry to the mismatched couple, “They do?”

“Vernon told me to get out when I suggested that if they had any of my parents’ heirlooms they should give them to me.” Harry turned back to glare at the other two furious adults.

“If you don’t leave right now I will call the police!” Vernon boomed. Tom looked unimpressed,

“Please do, Dawlish always appreciates it when thieves turn themselves in.” Tom drawled. Harry was a bit surprised his paranoia about Tom having people in the justice department was justified but didn’t linger on it for long. It would work out in his favor since he decided against going to the police. “I think he would be very interested in some of your other criminal activities too,” Tom smiled, all fake blandness. Harry didn’t know he could smile without looking smug and superior, “Unless you want to be the talk of the neighborhood when you are led out of here in handcuffs, I suggest you give Harry all that is rightfully his.”

Harry was surprised when Petunia put a hand on Vernon’s arm to prevent him from shouting back. “Everything’s in the basement.”

“Good choice,” Tom gestured to Harry to lead the way.

“Is it that one door in the basement that has been locked my whole life?” He asked, arms crossed. Petunia nodded, “Perhaps you should give me the key now?” Harry tilted his head to the side. Petunia sighed and led them into the kitchen, dropping a key into his hand before impatiently gesturing towards the basement door.   
Harry unlocked the door then turned to look at Tom, “Would you like to wait here?” He asked as politely as possible while still trying to make it clear that it wasn’t a suggestion. He really hated the sarcastic amused look he got in response but Tom agreed so he couldn’t be too upset.

Harry crept down the stairs, for all that he had done all the cleaning in the house he had rarely been sent down to the basement. He wondered if this was why. He wandered through stacks of Dudley’s toys. Harry had wondered where they put them when they moved him into Dudley’s second bedroom. There also seemed to be a few old family photos. It was quite obvious which belonged to the Evans and which belonged to the Dursleys. Harry considered a family portrait of the grandparents he never met, his mother that he did not remember, and his aunt who he hated. _Maybe_ , he thought, _maybe if my mum didn’t leave any pictures to me, I’ll take it._ They were his family too and he didn’t see what purpose it served hiding in a dusty old basement.

Finally, Harry reached the closet door. His hands shook a bit as he turned the key in the lock. The closet was smaller than he would have wished but there were still two small cardboard boxes of things that Petunia hadn’t given him. Harry didn’t understand, why would she give him a couple of things and hide the rest of this?

Harry sighed and thought of the sporty car Tom had arrived in. It would be a stretch to even fit boxes as small as these inside but Harry was pretty sure it was possible. He did not want to leave his parents’ things unattended. He didn’t know what his relatives might do to them. Harry walked carefully up the stairs, the boxes may be small but it was awkward to hold both of them and required lots of careful maneuvering.

“There. You got it all now. So you can’t have your barrister friend come after us, agreed?” Petunia said harshly, hands on her hips. Harry was about to open his mouth to agree but Tom cut him off,

“As long as Harry does not find any wrong-doing, there should be nothing for you to worry about,” He replied smoothly, noticing the tightness in Petunia’s lips at the response. Tom took one of the boxes and hurried Harry out of the house. He didn’t want to get into a debate about wording nor did he want Harry to agree to something foolish.

Tom managed to cram both boxes into the minuscule backseat. Harry gave his relatives a sarcastic wave once he noticed them watching them and entered the car.

“How did you know I was a barrister?” Tom asked once they left Number 4 Privet Drive far in the rear view mirror.

Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “I didn’t. I just wanted to scare them and I figured that you would have access to a solicitor at least.” He replied, “You really are a barrister?”

“I wasn’t going to stop at a solicitor when there was something higher I could reach towards. Granted, most of my practice is off the records but I still have my license.”

“Huh,” Harry leaned back in his seat, “I’m surprised. That contract you wrote seemed more English than legalese.”

“It’s not like we could take each other to court over it,” Tom shrugged his shoulders, “And I know I will win if we argue about the meanings of the terms.” Harry seemed like he couldn’t decide if he should be indignant or not, “You would have a better chance if you had as much education as I. You still wouldn’t win but neither would anyone else.” 

“Since I’m not planning on becoming a barrister I’ll just have to take your word for it,”   
Harry really hated the expressions Tom had. They always made him feel like he would regret whatever came afterwards, “Excellent.” He said in a near purr. If Harry could he would have scooted away. As is, he leaned closer to the passenger side door.

“There it is,” Tom broke the silence, “Welcome home,” Tom smiled sinisterly, but Harry, as always, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy gaping at the mansion in front of him. 

“We can bring your boxes up to the room,” Tom waved over one of his minions and slid forward the seat so the minion could get the boxes. Harry looked anxious but Tom ignored it. If his minions dropped Harry’s possessions there would be hell to pay. Just as there would be hell to pay if they messed up any task for Voldemort.

“I-”

“We can go to our room first so you can drop them off.” Harry nodded, his eyes were still on the boxes and he missed Tom’s exact wording. He followed quickly behind Tom’s minion. Tom, not liking Harry’s attention off him, gestured for his minion to place the boxes down, “It looked like you wanted to carry them yourself. I will help you, of course.” Tom picked up the chest and passed one to Harry before picking up the second for himself. “Follow me.” Despite having a staircase that would get him to his room faster to the side, Tom took Harry through the entrance hall so he could see the full grandeur of his house. Harry speechlessly followed him up the stairs. If grandiose displays of wealth struck Harry dumb, which they seemed to, well, that was something he could use. Harry was nice and compliant this way. He did not even notice Tom leading him through two different hallways, one of which required Tom’s fingerprint to open.

“Here we are,” Tom placed the box next to the coffee table and did the same to Harry’s, “You can look around a bit if you want.”

Harry lingered in the sitting room for a moment before opening a door. He entered a bedroom that was very nicely furnished, all dark wood finishes and antique books. The bed had a pocketed leather headboard with looked incredibly comfortable paired with the dark gray sheets. Harry let his hand run down the length of the bed to the matching leather bench at the end. In front of him were two doors, one led to a walk-in closet, although perhaps dressing room was the more fitting definition. There were dark wood shelves and cabinets for clothing but there was also a display case in the center featuring a variety of watches and cuff links. Curiously, it already seemed filled with clothing much finer than what Harry sent with Tom. Harry opened the other door in the bedroom to a luxurious bathroom. The toilet was hidden behind another door while a huge tub took center stage although the large walk-in shower competed for the eye’s attention. A bottle of partially used body wash sat on the shelf in the shower. Harry was starting to feel a little weirded out.

“It’s very nice,” Harry said, entering the sitting area, “But, um, are you sure this is going to be my room? It looks a little... lived in.”

“That is because it is also my room.” Tom said carelessly. Harry whipped around, “It is just for your protection, love.” He said before Harry could start arguing, “I don’t trust my minions to not take advantage of you.”

Harry tried to suppress a shiver, “Do you also not trust locks?”

“Not at all,” Tom replied easily. Harry pointedly looked at the entrance to the room, silently asking what made this so much safer, “There is a fingerprint reader for my bedroom.”

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again. That sounded expensive and how did he not notice it on the way inside? “The couch does look comfortable.” Harry muttered then reached towards one of the boxes before Tom could respond.

Harry took a deep breath and opened it. He did not quite know what he was hoping for but a pile of papers wasn’t it. His jaw tightened a bit. He was sure they were important if his parents deigned to leave them to him but he was hoping for something a little more personal. The second box had at least more material. There was a single photo album, some more papers, and three separate rings of keys on top of them. Each ring held four or six keys but it looked like half of them were duplicates. There was another key, so small that Harry almost missed it in his rush to go through the contents of the chest. Luckily, it made a clear ’plink’ sound when it landed at the bottom of the chest, drawing Harry’s attention to it.

Harry held it up. It was small, golden, and old-fashioned, he thought they were called skeleton keys, some three digit number was pressed in the side of it. Harry couldn’t see what use it would be;

“That is a Gringotts key,” Tom said when he voiced his thoughts, “They are an extremely old and exclusive bank, known for their privacy, security, and unique style of banking.”

“Unique style of banking?” Harry couldn’t quite deal with what the other things implied about his family yet.

“Gringotts is in actuality a glorified storage space. They have vaults but do not offer any banking services. I am sure in the past people kept money in the vaults but in this age and day most people expect their banks, at the very least, to have the ability to process a check.”

“I guess most don’t see it as a great lost that they are ’very exclusive’ then,”

“The general populace would agree with you but among the nobles and elite it is considered a status symbol.”

“The elite seem kind of dumb,” Harry responded, “Do you think that my parents left me items in there?”

“I am more interested in _how_ your family has an account there. I thought you said your father was a drunk and your mother was a prostitute.”

“That is what my relatives told me.” Harry looked skeptical, “However, I’m starting to get the feeling they were lying. I mean, I always thought they were lying. I just didn’t have the proof for it.”

“I would say that is adequate proof,” Tom said, nodding towards Harry’s Gringotts key, “The Gaunts had a vault there because of their long family history. Of course, hilariously they lost the key three generations ago.” Tom rolled his eyes, “Even the Riddles, for all they were worth, never were able to get a vault.”

“Never got one or never saw a use for one?” Harry asked. Tom shrugged in response,

“My grandfather seemed rather angry about missing the status symbol so I would guess they were never able to get one.” Tom narrowed his eyes at Harry, “What is your grandfather’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Tom’s eyebrows raised in surprise and Harry crossed his arms defensively, “My relatives never told me about my family. I know that my mom’s name was Lily and my dad’s name was James and Petunia and Vernon hated them both.”

Tom sighed deeply, “We will have to look through those papers when I finish giving you the grand tour.” He pulled Harry up and slung an arm around his waist. It seemed so different from how he treated Harry earlier in the day that Harry had to wonder what exactly was the purpose of this. “Across from our bedroom is the private study and library.” Tom opened the door to let Harry see a glimpse of that seemed to be a wholly unnecessary amount of books. He took Harry down one flight of stairs, “This is where the guest bedrooms are and my second bedroom are,” He gestured towards one door, oddly mismatched from the others by its silver color.

“You have a second bedroom?” Harry asked, wholly unimpressed. He thought Tom would act a little less spoiled than Dudley,

“I do not take hook-ups into my actual domain.” Tom said firmly, “That is nothing but an unnecessary security risk.”

“So you don’t have a second bedroom; you have a sex room.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Tom guided Harry down to the ground floor, “On the right is what is called the public wing. It has two receiving rooms, a ballroom, a catering kitchen, a formal dining room, and my office. On the left is what is called the family wing. It contains a family kitchen, breakfast room, dining room, living room, and den.”

To Harry’s surprise, instead of showing him around the family wing, which Harry expected to spend the most amount of time in, Tom steered him towards the so-called public wing and down another staircase. “This is our entertaining space. You can see we have a nice bar and cocktail lounge, billiards room, sauna, pool and jacuzzi. There is a door in the changing room that leads to a gym, which is only for residents.”

Tom pulled Harry behind the bar in the cocktail lounge and opened up a door that was disguised as a wall panel, “This leads to my base of operations. I suggest you avoid this area at all costs.” He pulled Harry a little closer to the top of the stairs to make sure he heard the multiple voices and occasional scream or shout. He closed the door shortly and turned to smile sinisterly at Harry, excited to see his shocked and horrified reaction.

He just looked confused but Tom supposed that was just as good.

“Why would you show me _more_ of your secrets when I am already actively blackmailing you?” Harry asked, his voice suggesting Tom was the stupidest person he had ever met.

Tom was taken back. That wasn’t the usual reaction he got, “You did hear when I told your relatives earlier in the day that I have sources within the police, did you not?” He asked in the same tone Harry had.

“You can’t control everything,” was Harry’s response, “I am sure I can find someone that could bring you down.”

Tom blinked and stopped himself from shaking his head in exasperation. He opened his mouth then shut it, it was obvious Harry wouldn’t understand that there might be someone that would work against him but eight out of ten times they would be reporting to someone that would cover for him. The boy obviously had no idea what he was dealing with and Tom wasn’t sure if he could make him understand yet.

“Let’s go through those papers you recovered.” Tom said instead.

“I’ll probably need a solicitor to look at them with me,” Harry lamented.

Tom again blinked in surprise, “Harry, I told you not even six hours ago that I am a barrister.”

The boy scoffed, “You are also a criminal that has motivation to work against me. Forgive me if I don’t trust you to manage my affairs.”

That was surprisingly smart, especially since Harry did not yet know Tom regularly used his position against his clients. “If I wanted something bad to happen to you, I would not keep you behind my fingerprint locked room nor would I warn you what to watch out for.” Tom argued, “Speaking of which, do not enter the greenhouse or stables.”

Harry stopped walking and looked at Tom appalled, “You train animals to hurt people?! What do you do to them?!?”

“Nothing!” Tom actually raised his voice at the insinuation that he would hurt any of his precious pets, “They do not need any training to hurt anyone. I had the stables were converted into a habitat suitable for my snake collection. I would never hurt the beautiful creatures,” That might be an understatement, he absolutely spoiled his snakes, “But if they strike out there is no assurance that you will not be dead by the time someone finds you.” He turned his face away from Harry to hide a smile. One of his minions he very much disliked suffered that fate. Another almost lost his hand to Nagini’s coils. He would have hired an actual snake handler to look after them but having to care for them was such a good punishment when his minions displeased him.

“You collect snakes?” Harry asked, fascinated, “What type? Why? How do they all live together I thought some snakes were pretty solitary?”

“You are interested in snakes?” Tom asked, surprised. Harry shrugged,

“I liked the garden snakes. They would always scare Dudley”

“If you ever want to use one, my snakes can do a lot more than scare your cousin,” Harry side-eyed Tom,

“Thanks for the offer but I think that might be a little too suspect right now.”

Tom shrugged and opened their bedroom door again, “If you ever change your mind the offer is open. Now, about those papers…” 

“I’m finding a different lawyer to look them over for me.”

“Why are you so insistent on not letting me help you?” Tom asked, frustrated, “You let me help you before.” In fact, he practically demanded help with his homework whenever Tom came into the shop. Tom liked that situation much better, Harry was much more agreeable.

“That was before I gave you reason to sabotage me,” Harry replied.

Tom tried not to roll his eyes. Harry really was taking this blackmail thing way too seriously. It was not like he wouldn’t have ended up in Tom’s house even if he didn’t blackmail him. He wondered how clear he could make that before Harry finally got it through his thick skull.

“There should be the name of the executor of your parents’ estate on the papers,” Tom knew he could not persuade Harry to change his mind and he would rather subtly manipulate him than outright fight. Confrontation was no way to draw Harry into his web.

“Thank you.” At least he didn’t sound pained when he said it. Tom thought he was making good progress, usually Harry seemed pained after he had to take Tom’s advice. Tom nodded and opened the door to their room. Harry made a beeline towards the boxes and started ruffling through the papers. Tom winced, if they were in any order before they definitely were not now.

“Found something!” Harry looked at the paper, “It says Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore are the executors of the will and Albus Dumbledore, as our family’s attorney, will manage my accounts until I have an undergraduate degree at which point everything in my trust will be released into my care.” Harry paused and his face went pale, “I also have a UTMA to provide for expenses that occur while I am a minor. Since I lived with my aunt, she was granted permission to be the custodian. She was also given access to some heirlooms that I was to receive while I was still a minor.” Harry looked up, “I only know what half of these words mean but I do know that having Petunia in charge of any part of my parents’ possessions is a horrible thing.”

“Yes, it is,” Tom agreed, “And it is so typically Dumbledore to fail his clients like this,” He added snootily.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You know him?”

“He was one of my professors in law school. We did not get along.” That was an understatement of epic proportions but Harry did not need to know that, “You cannot take control of the money in the UTMA until you are twenty-one so as disgusting as it is, you will need to contact Dumbledore to get your aunt removed as a custodian of the account-“

“If there is anything left of it-“ Harry injected.

“Yes, I do not even want to think about how much money she probably took from you.” Tom wrinkled his nose, “If you want you can take Dumbledore to court to have a new executor appointed. He definitely failed in his duty of making sure your parents’ will was executed according to their wishes. I would be happy to represent you.” The opportunity to face Dumbledore in court with a case he could not lose was practically Tom’s dream.

“I… I need to think about this.”

Tom didn’t know what exactly there was to think about but Harry didn’t automatically refuse his help so he was counting this as a win. All thanks to Dumbledore, urgh.

Harry started to move the papers to the table and off the sofa, “I think I’d like to sleep now.”

“You want to sleep on the sofa?” Tom asked scornfully, “The bed’s big enough to share.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Harry responded, “I’ll sleep here.”

Tom gave Harry an annoyed look. Stubborn, plan-ruining teenager. He wondered if refusing Harry linens if he slept there would be a good or bad move. Probably bad.

“Suit yourself,” Tom grumbled, walking over to a small closet in his room to give Harry sheets then walked over to his bed to throw a pillow at Harry, “If that pillow is not comfortable, I will buy you a new one.”

“Better than I had before,” Harry shrugged and put the sofa together to sleep on. Tom made a face and stayed in his armchair across from Harry. “Are you just going to stay there and stare at me?” He asked irritably.

“I’m not ready to go to sleep,” Tom retorted. Harry grumbled and rolled over to face away from Tom as he tried to fall asleep. Tom held a book in front of his face to make Harry more comfortable but watched him over it as he twitched in his sleep. He was still as adorable as he was when Tom first met him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! :)


	4. mornings and too giant houses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's second day at Tom's place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of the split chapter.

On the second morning after Harry moved in with Tom, he found that Tom had left before Harry woke up. He supposed that Tom thought it would be fine to leave him alone since he seemed really big on the ‘my house is your house’ thing but Harry was a bit pissed. He did not know his way around enough to go without a guide yet. Groggily, Harry rolled out of bed. He got dressed and showered before he went downstairs for breakfast.

Harry trudged into the kitchen and then stopped short. There were people there. He supposed that it should be obvious that Tom used his manor for business but Harry thought they would all be in the other wing or down in the secret basement, not sitting in the family kitchen eating breakfast. One man stared at Harry and started to look hostile but the other stopped him and whispered something. After that, both men just gave him respectful nods and seemed to turn back to their breakfast. Awkwardly, Harry shuffled over to the counter and grabbed a piece of fruit before shuffling out again. He could feel the men’s eyes on him and didn’t want to eat with Tom’s minions staring at him in a way much less subtle than they thought.

Harry pulled himself up the stairs again then stared at the door to his bedroom. It was fingerprint locked and Tom didn’t program him in yet. He was locked out of his room.

Fuck.

Harry huffed in aggravation then leaned against the door and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He looked up and across the hall, his eyes fixed on Tom’s private study and library. Well, if Tom was going to lock him out of their room, the least he could do was provide him with alternate amusements. Maybe there would be some of Tom’s law books in there. Tom had offered to help Harry when he set up a meeting with Dumbledore (he looked half-disgusted, half-gleeful when he said that, like he couldn’t decide if the bragging was worth the repulsion of being in Dumbledore’s presence again) but Harry felt weird about taking a barrister to an appointment with another barrister. In all technicality, Dumbledore should have more of a reason to be his advocate than Tom but past events, or lack thereof, made him cautious. He wanted to know as much as he could before he met the man.

Harry pulled himself off the ground and moved over to the door to try to push it open. To his surprise, it worked. Harry’s eyebrows rose. For all of Tom’s security, it seemed unlikely that he would leave the door to his personal study unlocked. He shrugged to himself. Maybe Tom set it up for Harry to amuse himself. Or study. That was more likely. Tom was always big on education.

The study was cozier than Harry had expected. There were two big fluffy armchairs and a sofa. They were all in dark brown leather, not fabric or prints, very elegant. That was expected at least. Harry hummed and started to browse the bookshelves for anything useful. There was a desk on the other side of the room but no writing utensils or papers were on it. It was obviously not used for serious work often.

By the titles of the books, Harry could see what Tom meant by it being personal. Most of the books were classic novel (Harry had to wonder if Tom actually enjoyed them or if it just something he thought he should like) but Tom had some contemporary and there were a lot more plays and poems than Harry would expect. Some of those books actually looked well-read. As Harry came closer to the desk, he found more non-fiction books, mostly histories and biographies. On the two shelves behind the desk Harry finally found what he was looking for: the books on law, business, and finance. They were definitely a higher level than Harry would be able to understand so he chose the thinnest book to start with. Harry took the book back to one of the armchairs and let himself sink into the cushion, cracking open the book and trying to read it.

If Harry knew Tom better, hell, if he even thought for a moment more, he would have realized that for Tom to have a book this small it must be on a niche topic that was far too complicated for most people to understand. Harry’s eyes skimmed the page but there was an obvious assumption that the reader would have a background in the topic before they started reading the book. Harry sighed and walked up to Tom’s shelves to try to locate a more accessible book. This time he paid far more attention to the titles and subtitles. It figured that the one book Tom had in his collection that even seemed to be remotely beginner-friendly was a thick hardcover that proclaimed itself as a law dictionary. It probably wouldn’t help him come up with a plan for Dumbledore but at least he would have a better idea of what some of the lingo in the papers meant.

Honestly, Harry would much rather be exploring his ‘new home’ but encountering two of Tom’s minions in the breakfast area was a bit much for him. The crime lord? Yeah, he could deal with him just fine. The minions who creepily stared at him and he didn’t know at all? No thanks, Harry would much rather suffer through this dull, dull book. To his credit, Harry did spend a good ninety minutes trying to make his mind concentrate on the book but it was just so dry. He placed this book next to the other discarded one and leaned back with a sigh, thinking about how nice it might be to try out the pool Tom had. Harry had never been in a pool before and didn’t really know how to swim well either but he wanted to learn.

That wasn’t going to happen that day, however, so Harry walked up to the bookshelves that held Tom’s novels and chose one at random before dropping himself on the couch and sprawling across it. He scoffed once he saw the book that he pulled out, Shakespeare. Not the easy read that Harry would have preferred but he didn’t feel like getting back up so he just held it up and started pretending to understand Elizabethan English.

Needless to say, Harry fell asleep shortly.

And woke up to Tom’s face staring at his hours later.

Harry startled, “What the fuck? Were you watching me sleep?!?”

“Only for a little while,” Tom responded. Harry gave him a weird look but he continued talking, “Why were you asleep?”

“Shakespeare is boring.” Harry picked the book off the floor which it had fallen on once he fell asleep, “And your goons are creepy.”

“That does tend to be the general point of having goons,” Tom mused, “So you decided to hide up here all day?”

Harry really didn’t like the way that statement sounded bit couldn’t deny it was accurate. “I didn’t realize they would be in the ‘family wing’ when you gave me a tour.” There was an accusatory tone in his voice but Tom didn’t acknowledge it.

“So upon that discovery you decided to come to my personal study and read a treatise on international laws, law terms, and Richard III?”

“Is that was the Shakespeare was?” Harry asked. Tom nodded in response but still looked expecting of Harry’s answer. Harry told him what he planned to do, only the slightest bit abashed.

“It is a bad idea to face Dumbledore alone,” Tom said seriously, “He is a manipulative old bastard that will gaslight you into thinking that you are wrong.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “And you won’t?”

“I doubt I could gaslight you, love.” Tom smiled, it seemed sincere, “It seems I must find something a bit more amusing for you to do. What do you want me to get you? What do you want to do?”

Harry paused to think seriously on the question. What did _he_ _want_ to do? Was there anyone who asked him that question before in a way that actually left him free to answer? Reading wasn’t exactly something that he enjoyed, Harry preferred doing to thinking, but at the same time he didn’t want to do anything that would require him interacting with Tom’s minions. He really did not have much chance to try things in his life so far. The only things that he knew he was good at besides snooping, which he had a feeling wouldn’t go over well in this place, were running and doing chores. Running, when it wasn’t away from someone, was something he could enjoy, but he really rather not do any chores. Besides, he had a feeling Tom had people for that.

Apparently he waited too long to answer, “Never mind, I will get you some options you can try out,” Tom waved his hand dismissively, “Come, it’s almost dinner time. I promise no one will dine with us tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“We are hosting several of my associates tomorrow.”

“Oh joy,” Harry grumbled. He knew he really shouldn’t judge the people before he met them but they were associated with Tom, they couldn’t possibly be good people, “And I must attend?”

“Of course,” Tom smirked, “It is to introduce you to my associates, after all.” Harry did not look impressed by that answer at all but nodded reluctantly, “Cheer up, darling. I assure you it will be a good time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Harry gave him a distrustful look and Tom’s smirk only widened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has dinner with Tom's associates, gets comfortable at his new home, and has an excellent birthday for once in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the tag 'unhealthy relationships' because I reread this to post it.... yeah, it gets slightly better but they really don't have a healthy relationship. Also, Tabala asked me about the Implied/Reference Non-con/Rape tag and I thought I would also answer it here in case anyone wants to know: the tag is not about tom and harry.

“I wanted to remind you that I am having a few acquaintances over for dinner tonight.” Tom announced, grand as ever.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “So I should stay in here and pretend I don’t exist?” He asked hopefully, already knowing that the answer.

“No,” Tom gave him a look, “No, you are attending with me. We already covered that I wanted to introduce you to them. Besides, this is your home too now. It would be wrong to shunt you away when guests came over.”

_Just my home enough that I have to play host but not my home enough for me to be consulted before guests come over_ , Harry thought bitterly, “Are you sure it's wrong? Because it actually feels pretty okay to me.”

“Harry, you will attend with me,” Tom said sharply, “They will arrive at seven and we will both be there to greet them. I already picked out your outfit which is hanging up in the closet.” He stared at Harry, “I would be most displeased if you do not come.”

“And what does displeasure look like on you?”

Tom gave him a nasty smile, “I do not think you want to know, love.”

Harry studied Tom’s face seriously for a second before giving a careless shrug, “I have better fights to pick,” He declared, “I’ll be there.”

At seven, Tom and Harry stood inside the formal dining room doors, waiting for Tom’s servants to escort his guests into the room. Harry tried his best to keep a placid expression. “I’m glad you don’t make us eat in here everyday,” He finally couldn’t help but comment, wrinkling his nose, “I think this room actually makes me nauseous.” Everything was covered in gold leaf. Everything.

“It may be a bit gaudy but it is suitably intimidating,” Tom replied, stepping forward to meet the first guests, “Lucius, Narcissa, it is nice to see you. Draco is not accompanying you tonight?”   
The blonde couple exchanged a nervous look that Harry couldn’t help but pick up on. “No, my Lord, Draco is very busy preparing for university and could not attend tonight.”

“Shame,” Tom’s polite smile never wavered, “I was hoping that I might be able to introduce him to my guest.” Tom took a half-step back, “Lucius, Narcissa, please allow me to introduce you to Harry Potter. He will be staying with me for a while. Harry, let me introduce you to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, two close associates. They have a son about your age, Draco Malfoy, but unfortunately it seems that you shall have to meet him some other time.”

Harry exchanged polite greetings with them then let them find their seats. A minute later, another couple came in and Harry went through the whole process again and so on for the next fifteen minutes. Harry noticed that most of the guests called Tom ’my lord’ and looked confused and slightly nervous once Tom introduced Harry.

“They don’t know how to act around an outsider,” Harry turned his head to identify the source of the whisper as the person who was introduced as Barty Crouch Jr. Unlike the others, he did not go straight to his seat after being introduced but instead hung around Harry, which Tom seemingly did not have a problem with. Apparently, Barty as lived in Tom’s home but had been away on a business trip the past week so Harry had not met him yet.

“Fitting,” Harry responded, “Seeing that I, the outsider, also don’t know how to act.” Barty gave him a smile. He was kind of adorable with his dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He also seemed fixated on Tom with a puppy dog like stare. Harry had to wonder if they were together. It would explain why Barty seemed so much less nervous than anyone else.

“You are not an outsider,” Tom hissed once there was a break in people. Harry glanced at the table and it looked like they were waiting on three more guests, “This is your home. They are the outsiders.”

Harry glanced at Barty instead of responding to Tom, “Did you also get this lecture when you moved in?”

Barty laughed, loud and boisterous, drawing everybody’s attention, “I didn’t move in like you moved in, love,” He responded. Harry’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand what Barty meant.

Quick footsteps jarred his attention away from Barty and towards the door, but not before he saw one last smirk and Barty walking off to take his seat. 

“My Lord!” A woman exclaimed excitedly, “It is delightful to see you!”

Harry rose his eyebrows as the woman stepped forward and clung to Tom’s arm, unlike the more respectable way everyone else greeted him. Two other men also entered with her, one wearing a wedding band that matched the one on the woman’s left ring finger. “I have missed you, my Lord.” The woman’s voice sounded suggestive. Harry looked at the husband to see what he made of his wife’s behavior. He seemed stoic.

“Bella,” Tom said indulgently. It was different from the mocking indulgence Tom would aim at him. There seemed to be something less about it. Maybe more like how an owner might indulge a pet but without any of the love or fondness. Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on what was so wrong about it but he knew he definitely never wanted Tom to talk to him that way, unlike the woman who seemed to glow just from her name leaving his mouth. “Rodolphus, Rabastan, I would like you to introduce you to Harry Potter.”

Tom smoothly extracted himself from ’Bella’s’ grip as he was talking and instead placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The woman glared at him. “Harry, let me introduce you to Rodolphus Lestrange, his wife Bellatrix-” Harry had a feeling that was a pointed remark because the older of the two men stepped forward to place a hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder. It looked like it was more to restrain her than show affection. “-and his brother Rabastan Lestrange. Now that you arrived, we may be seated.”

Tom slid his hand to Harry’s back and guided him to the chair on his right. Incidentally, exactly where Bellatrix was heading before Tom seated him. Across from him was Barty who gave him a small smirk and wink. Tom clapped his hands and the first course was brought in by some of his servants.

Dinner was awkward at best. Harry really didn’t know what Tom wanted to achieve by it. On one hand, Harry had a great time talking with Barty, who was the closest one to his age there, despite still being at least five years older than him. On the other, Harry could feel Bellatrix’s glare on him constantly. Tom seemed to get it into his head that for some reason, Harry needed to know everyone there despite only remembering half of their names. He would involve Harry in a stilted conversation with one of his associates, then be distracted by Bellatrix simpering for attention. The conversation fell apart until Tom focused on the rest of the table again and involved Harry in another awkward conversation that also fell apart as soon as he was distracted midway through. Harry could tell Barty was muffling snickers and Harry swore he shared a commiserating look with Lucius Malfoy, who was by far the stiffest person Harry had ever met.

Needless to say, it was a great relief when everyone finally left. Bellatrix kept dragging her heels, taking another glass of wine when everyone else was just about done and encouraging others to leave while she just finished this glass, an obvious ploy to get Tom alone which failed as Tom’s glare kept everyone in their seats. She must have asked a thousand times on the way out if there was anything she could do for Tom, anything at all?

Harry had to admit, he enjoyed seeing Tom’s face as disgruntled as it was and might have turned around just a bit quick at the door when he and Tom were escorting the Lestranges out to give Bellatrix her moment alone with him, muffling snickers as he did.

It was a bit of an inconvenience when he had to wait fifteen minutes for Tom to open their bedroom door, however.

“Wow, fast and neat,” Harry commented. Tom was totally unruffled and it was pretty obvious he didn’t have sex but Harry couldn’t resist teasing, “I was starting to regret leaving you alone when I realized I was locked out but it seems that you can do everything.”

“Brat,” Tom put his finger on the reader and Harry followed him inside. He opened a door Harry hadn’t noticed before. The room within contained quite a few monitors showing different areas of Tom’s estate, “Put your finger here.” Tom instructed, holding up an electronic pad, “If you try to bring anyone else in here an alarm will sound but you will be able get to bed unassisted.”

Harry pressed his fingers to the pad, “Thank you,” He said happily as Tom closed the hidden door again, “So all those people, they are part of your _business_?” The emphasis on the last word made it unmistakable what Harry was asking.

“They are,” Tom confirmed smugly,

“Why? I mean, at least Rodolphus Lestrange should hate you and he’s much bigger than you. It shouldn’t take much effort for him to snap you in two, so why does he bow down to you? Why do any of them?”

“Because I have power,” Tom smirked, “I will admit, half of this was established previously, although it was falling apart until I took charge of it. The other part of it is exclusively my doing.” He steepled his hands together and leaned forward. Harry had noticed Tom never seemed able to resist bragging when he had the chance. Harry resisted the urge to tell him to just get on with it and quit being so self-satisfied.

“You see, I come from two highly prominent families, darling. Prominent in completely different ways, most assuredly, but prominent nevertheless. My mother’s family were the Gaunts.” He paused as if waiting for a shocked reaction, “They were what was left of the Slytherin family.” Another pause and another impatient look from Harry.

Tom sighed heavily, “The Slytherins were a notorious mafia family. The head of the family was unfortunately driven from the country at the height of their success-“

“Fleeing justice?”

“His former business partner decided he did not approve of his new activities,” Tom admitted, “He was the only one the law could identify so everyone else was safe but things got a bit… disorganized after that. His second son kept together what he could. Of course, he was not nearly as successful but it was enough that the mafia continued to exist and thrive… mostly unimpeded, until a couple of generations ago. Luckily, I… disposed of my relatives before they could irreparably destroy the operations.”

“You killed your family?”

“No, I disposed of my relatives. I am positive that you of all people would understand the difference, Harry.”

Harry stopped to think on it for a second. He hated the Dursleys. He could admit that. They starved him, they lied about his parents, they took the money he earned from his job, and just the past winter they had left him outside in the freezing cold at night. They left no doubt that they did not even have the slightest bit of care for him. When he was younger, he would imagine someone showing up and rescuing him. Most of those dreams featured the Dursleys dying as a result of his savior’s righteous fury. As he grew older, he gave up hope for the savior but he never stopped wishing ill on them. Harry couldn’t imagine them dying by his hands. It was always some “tragic” accident that got them. He was happy to see it as karma but couldn’t imagine settling the score himself. Some people just didn’t deserve to be happy. Some people just didn’t deserve to live.

“I hope it was satisfying,” Harry responded. While it was totally possible Tom had done away with them for convenience’s sake, Harry could not imagine a situation where killing your relatives wasn’t at least somewhat personal.

“It was quite enjoyable.” Tom’s lips curved back up into a smile, “Anyway, while my maternal family was always involved with the underworld, my paternal family was always involved with the elite.”

“So you expanded your business?”

Tom frowned, displeased to have the story taken away from him, “It was considerably more involved than that, but yes. You can say that if you wanted to be unforgivably minimalist.”

“Well,” Harry frowned, “I would have thought you would want to be minimalist. Unlike the others, you don’t have my undying loyalty,” A corner of his lips twitched, “After all, you did tell me that overconfidence got us in this situation in the first place. I would think you wouldn’t want to spill all your secrets to someone who is already actively blackmailing you.” 

Tom resisted the urge to gape at Harry. He showed him the breadth of his operation. He waved his influence in Harry’s face yet the boy still didn’t seem to understand that it was Tom that held all the power, that his blackmail meant jack shit. “Overconfidence definitely does seem to be an issue,” Tom said lowly, ignoring Harry’s smug expression. It was either overconfidence or obliviousness, maybe both. It was certainly going to make his life more eventful with Harry refusing to realize his position. Tom was actually a bit worried about what might happen if some of his more fanatical followers saw Harry’s disrespect. At least if one of them did take offense it would strengthen Tom’s argument for making Harry stay in his room.

“When you find you have more questions, you will have to earn the answers,” Tom responded, “Perhaps by the winter holidays you will be able to find out the whole story.” Tom knew that for all of Harry’s sass and simplification the boy could not let something go. If he thought there was more he was missing out on, he would definitely seek it out. It would be fun to watch him work for something. 

Over the next month, Harry found that Tom’s absence when he woke up was not just a fluke. To be completely fair, this was the first time in Harry’s life that he was able to sleep in and he was taking advantage of it. Still, it was a bit disappointing that he only saw Tom for a few hours each night and they usually talked about Harry’s law stuff. (Harry was very much of the mind to put it off for as long as he could successfully ignore it. He really did not want to learn about how he was taken advantage of and abused more than he already knew. He was thinking about a more physical style of payback currently. Tom was trying to bring him around to the idea of kicking them where it really hurt.) Tom did take his promise to find something that would amuse Harry quite seriously, however, and each day there would be something new waiting for Harry to try it out. Harry found that video games bored him (and reminded him of Dudley), they were too stationary for his tastes, writing and journaling were not going to become past times, still too stationary, and that although he enjoyed doodling, drawing was never going to be his thing. He did find that he enjoyed pottery, even though he is pretty sure Tom only got that as a joke, since it kept his hands busy. Sewing, knitting, and crocheting felt too much like old women activities for him to develop the same appreciation. Harry loved any type of physical activity and became in the habit of visiting the gym everyday, although he still hadn’t learned how to swim yet.

Barty turned out to be Harry’s best defense against boredom. At first, Harry was still suspicious of Barty and Tom’s relationship and felt a bit awkward around the older man. It seemed weird that Harry was sleeping in Tom’s room instead of him. It only took a couple times of watching Tom and Barty interact to dissuade Harry from that notion though. From what he could determine, he thought Barty must be like a little brother to Tom. He seemed to get starry-eyed whenever Tom was around but neither of the two treated the other as anything more than purely platonic, which made Harry feel much more comfortable in Barty’s presence.   
Harry thought it was a little strange that some how Barty always had time to hang out with him, he had this sneaky suspicion that that was Tom’s doing, but he was grateful for it all the same. Trying new things was much more fun when you were doing it with a friend and surprisingly enough, that is what Barty became to him. Although Barty was more academic than Harry (like Tom in that regard), he shared a passion for exercise with him and started teaching Harry self-defense, something that Harry had always wanted to learn. It made his day dreams of going back and getting revenge on the Dursleys more realistic. Barty tried to teach Harry how to shoot a gun, which was not his favorite activity. The swords Barty taught him to fight with were much more up his alley. Besides, Barty was not exactly a teacher strict with safety measures and Harry would rather risk a few bruises from the practice swords than a bullet wound. It did not take more than a couple of meetings for Harry to learn Barty was a bit crazy and that he thrived off chaos. You only needed to look at the paintings he created to see that. The good thing was Harry found he too thrived off Barty’s style of chaos and thus even without Tom, he never had a boring moment. 

One day, about a month later, Harry woke up to the unlikely sight of Tom sitting on the armchair across from the sofa he was sleeping on. He had to blink a few times to make sure he was not seeing things but no. Mr. Busy-Body was there and had been creepily watching Harry sleep.

“You seriously sleep this late?” Having just woken up, Harry could not properly respond to the judgement in Tom’s voice except to stick his tongue out at him, “Very mature,” Tom sounded amused and Harry groaned before falling back on the sofa, “No, no, this is a special day. You already wasted enough time sleeping.”

“It’s ma’birthday lemme sleep,” Harry muttered tiredly,

“I know,”

“Huh?” Harry did not recall ever telling Tom has birthday. It was enough for him to crack one eye open to look at him with suspicion.

“Did you really think I would let someone in my home, much less my room, without knowing everything there was to know about them?” Tom scoffed, “Now, come one, get up.”

“It’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me,” Harry complained but sat up anyway and stretched, “Is that why you are here? I get extra attention for my birthday?”

“Something like that,” Tom agreed, “Go get ready. We won’t be able to do everything if you continue to laze around.” Harry shot Tom a glare but it was weak. He did miss Tom’s company as much as he hated to admit it and got dressed faster than what was probably advisable if he were to actually show upset towards him.

“We are not going that way,” Tom steered Harry away from the kitchen and towards the informal dining room. Harry had never actually been in there before, the breakfast room had always provided sufficient space and the full length windows occupying two of the walls made it one of Harry’s favorite places in the manor.

Tom threw open the doors to the informal dining room and Harry could see why he decided to use that room instead of the breakfast room. For all the breakfast room was lovely, it definitely would not have space enough to fit the amount of presents stuffed into the dining room.

“I do not know enough people to justify this amount of presents,” It made Dudley’s birthdays look like those of a poor man.

“You know me,”

“All of these are from you?” Harry spun around and looked at Tom in disbelief, “Why??”

“I thought the whole birthday present thing was pretty self-evident.”

“No! I mean why did you get me so many??”

“Because I like you, Harry. I do not like most people but I do enjoy your company,” Harry blushed at Tom’s statement and opened his mouth to argue against his justification, “You need a lot of new things anyway,” Tom added casually, “If you need to, consider this part of your deal that I will provide for you.” Although Tom originally hoped that Harry would realize Tom was just humoring him when it came to the whole blackmail thing, he now found it a useful tool to use when Harry argued against the amount of stuff Tom gave him.

“A lot less stuff than I needed at the beginning of the summer, considering you bought me a new wardrobe before I even got here,” Harry was mainly bickering just to bicker so Tom didn’t respond.

“Open this one first,” Tom passed Harry a small box, which he found contained the latest iPhone once he unwrapped it, “These go with that gift.” He gestured to a small pile of gifts on the table.

Harry cracked a smile, “Got it all organized, huh?”

“Of course,” Tom said, faux-haughtily,

“And where will breakfast be eaten?” Harry asked, there really was not enough room on the table for them to eat at all.

“The breakfast room, where it always is.” Harry’s tummy rumbled, “Would you like to eat first?”

“If you would not mind,”

“Of course not,”

After a large breakfast, Tom corralled Harry back into the family dining room and made him open the rest of the presents. Most of them were wholly unnecessary but nice to have. One pile contained a top-of-the-line computer with two extra monitors, an external keyboard, more programs than he knew what to do with, and more external hard drives than he could ever picture needing. Another had a tablet with a Bluetooth keyboard and case. What made up the bulk of the gifts Tom gave were things Harry might need for his dorm room: a mini-fridge, a microwave, an electronic tea kettle, an espresso machine, a thick mattress pad, and new linens. Frankly, Harry wasn’t sure if all of the items would be able to fit inside his dorm room.

Finally, Harry found a gift from Barty (a sketch pad, some pencils, and clay) and he thought he was done with his hours long journey of unwrapping presents. He was wrong.

“I have one more thing for you,” Tom told him, “But we will need to go somewhere to get it.” Harry bit back a groan, it would be too ungrateful to respond to Tom’s generosity that way, even he knew that. So he let Tom lead him to the car and leaned back in the passenger’s seat and closed his eyes, hoping the ride wasn’t too long.

“We’re almost there,”

Harry opened his eyes to see where they were and blinked in surprise, “I thought I told you I wasn’t ready to get my revenge on them yet.” He was back in Little Whinging, much sooner than he ever thought he would be.

Tom laughed, “We are not going there,” He turned down a side street, “Although if you change your mind, I am happy to do that today too.”

“It’s my birthday, won’t it be a bit suspicious?” Harry muttered. Tom just shrugged back and instead pulled into the parking lot of Main Street Cleaners and Tailors. “Wh-?” There was no reason Harry could think of for them to be _there_.

“Did you know Mrs. Figg breeds cats?” Tom asked. Harry paused for a moment then eagerly rushed out of the car. When he tried the door it was locked, “She’s meeting us outside.” Tom informed Harry, “Apparently she decided to scale back the amount of hours the shop is open.” The excitement in Harry’s eyes was endearing. Tom knew when Harry got sight of the cat by the loud gasp and a squeal (although Harry would never admit that was a squeal).

Walking towards them was the elderly Mrs. Figg with a white cat attached to a leash by some harness it wore, “She’s a Norwegian Forest Cat and Singapura mix,” She explained to Tom. Harry was a bit too busy making friends with the cat he now held the leash to, “She can get a bit fussy sometimes but is good-tempered overall. Is she what you are looking for?”

“I’m naming her Hedwig,” Harry looked over his shoulder at Tom with a huge smile. The cat looked much less happy to see him and pressed close to Harry in a possessive way, “This is the best present that I ever got, thank you!” Harry hopped up to hug Tom before kneeling back down to play with the newly-named Hedwig.

“He’s always been a good kid,” Mrs. Figg commented lowly to Tom, “Never believed what his aunt said. It is good of you to take care of him like this.”

“It has been my sincerest pleasure that he lets me,” Tom whispered back to her, “Harry, would you like to go to the pet shop? I think there are some items Hedwig might want,”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, picking the cat up when he stood this time. He was glowing in Tom’s eyes and although Tom was not happy when cat hair got all over his car, he thought seeing Harry smile like that was worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom: Let me introduce you to my empire that you will rule by my side one day.  
> Harry: *taking out headphones* What? Did you say something?  
> Tom: *sigh* Never mind, we'll take it slow. How do you feel about gifts and cats? 
> 
> Also, don't shop adopt. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. the required party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a party Tom forces Harry to go to and then becomes even more creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be a long rambling note at the end because my brain isn't up having things make sense but I think I will manage to remember the important parts?? Anyway, dub/non-con bed sharing??? Just bed-sharing but if that's going to be a problem for someone I just wanted to let you know. This and next chapter might be the one's I like the least so there's that too. 
> 
> Also, enjoy my really bullshit attempts at setting this in Britain.

“I will be hosting a gala in the ballroom in two weeks,” Tom informed Harry as he straightened his tie, “It will be substantially larger than my other events,”

Harry looked up from where he was petting Hedwig to stare at Tom, “Why are you telling me this?” Over the summer, Tom had people over several times during the summer but he had never felt the need to inform Harry besides warning him that people would be in and out of public wing that day. For some reason, the fact that Tom was giving Harry advanced warning was setting off alarm bells. “I mean, will I even be here for it? I am going to university in two weeks.”

Hedwig, disgruntled with her owner’s distracted attention, jumped off Harry’s lap and went to rub up against Tom’s legs, much to his displeasure. Animal hair wasn’t something he had to factor into his outfits before and the fact that the demon cat ruined that for him was something he was not very happy about. It would be enough for him to regret getting her for Harry if his smile wasn’t so bright every time he played with her.

“It is before you go to university and I would… strongly prefer your presence.” Tom glanced down at the cat who had thankfully lost interest in him and was instead stalking around the room.

“How strongly?” Harry groaned,

“Very strongly,”

“Why?” Harry would even admit that was a whine, “Why the hell do you want me there? I have nothing to do with your business.”

_Not yet_ , Tom thought, _but you will since I am not planning on letting you go._ “It is not all about my business. Besides, there will be a few people your age there I think it would be beneficial for you to met.”

“Don’t think it is worth it.”

“Did I mention it would make me very unhappy if you didn’t come?”

“That won’t work forever,” Harry said, standing up and crossing his arms.

“It will once you actually see me angry,” Tom threatened, expression dark, “I’d avoid that if I were you.” Harry narrowed his eyes and stared at Tom, sizing him up,

“Remember what blackmail you had on me.” Harry’s expression dropped a bit then nodded.

“Fine, I’ll go to your stupid party.” Harry looked mutinous but that was fine. Tom didn’t need him happy to be there, he just needed him there. “Come on, Hedwig,” Harry walked over and picked up his cat, “Let’s go see Barty, _he_ doesn’t threaten us.” 

There was a long line of people waiting to greet Tom and if there was one thing Harry was thankful for it was that Tom didn’t think he was ready to play host at an event this large. Harry did not understand why _he_ would ever have to play host. After all, Barty lived here as well as others, and none of them ever had to act as hosts. Whenever he brought it up, Barty smirked but said nothing so Harry learned to keep his complaints to himself.

It was almost an hour into the event before Tom managed to make his way over to Harry, who had mostly been keeping to the wall and observing the guests.

“You can socialize, you know.” Harry kept his response to himself. He was not used to interacting with people and frankly did not have the urge to try at somewhere he was forced to be. Tom sighed, “I will introduce you.” He placed a hand on Harry’s back and started to direct him towards a group of older teens.

Once they realized Tom was coming over to them, all of them straightened up and looked avidly at him, “Draco,” Tom said smoothly, “This is Harry, he will be staying with me for a while. I trust you will make him feel welcome and introduce him to your friends.” Without further to do, Tom walked off.

There was a marked difference between Harry and the other teens. Even with how they relaxed once Tom left, none of them looked hunched or slumped down and seemed to have perfect posture. Harry wasn’t totally curled in on himself but his stance could only be described as plebeian compared to theirs. Likewise, they all seemed comfortable in their suits and dresses, with a wine glass in their hands. They were likely making polite small talk before Harry came over. Harry only had the faintest idea of how to do that by listening to his aunt and uncle’s meetings quietly from his cupboard when he was very young. Harry might be dressed as finely, perhaps even more finely, than they were but he obviously did not belong in this world.

“Why are you here?” The blonde boy Tom had introduced as Draco sneered.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Harry asked, startled by the question.

“Obviously not,” Draco stuck his nose up in the air, “Which is why I asked why a nobody was here.”

“I thought Tom explained that quite well,” The group gasped when Harry said Tom’s name, to his further bemusement, “I’m staying with him for a while. He insisted that I come.”

“He lets you call him that name?” One of the girls asked in a hushed voice. Harry bit back his immediate retort that it was better than Ted and simply nodded, “Truly?”

“It is his name,” Harry raised an eyebrow, “Why would I not call him that?”

Draco suddenly got a disdainful look on his face. Well, an even more disdainful look, “Oh, I see,” He said but did not explain what he saw, “Perhaps you should go introduce yourself to some of those guests,” He pointed at a group that was obviously not at the center of things, “I think you would fit better with them.” He went to turn back to the group and exclude Harry but he cleared his throat,

“While that sounds really great, Tom did ask you to introduce me to all your friends and I’d hate to have to tell him I wasn’t able to since you believed that he led me to the wrong people to make friends with,”

“I am Daphne Greengrass,” One of the girls said before Draco could open his mouth, “This is Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Georgy Golye, Millicent Bulstrode, and my younger sister Astoria.”

“It is very nice to make your acquaintance,” Harry said with a small bow of his head, “Are you also all headed to uni?”

“I am not,” Astoria answered, “I am going into Oxbridge but the rest of them are,”

“What schools?” Harry asked, interested in seeing if there was an actual point to Tom introducing him to the teens or if he was right and it would have been all well and good if he just skipped the party.

“Oxford and Cambridge,” Draco answered, nose still up in the air. Daphne rolled her eyes,

“For Theo, Draco, and I, that is correct. Bulstrode, Crabbe, Golye, and Parkinson are going to University of Bedford. And you?”

“Stinchcombe University,” Harry answered. He knew a bit more about the school now and while it wasn’t as well-respected as Oxford or Cambridge (no university was) it was considered quite a good school in its own right. Daphne nodded politely while Draco scoffed, obviously looking down on his choice. Pretty rich considering where his friends were getting their education from, “Do have something to say?” Harry asked, turning towards Draco. The blonde teen glared at him,

“You do not deserve to be here,” He sneered, “I do not know what He could possibly want from you but sooner rather than later he is going to realize you are trash.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “For some reason I’m getting the reason you dislike me,” He said mildly,

“You would be correct,” Draco sniffed haughtily. Harry studied the boy in front of him, he couldn’t think of any reason for Draco to take such an immediate dislike to him except…

“Are you jealous?” Harry asked, amused.

“No!” Draco exclaimed, his face turning red, “If anyone should be jealous it’s you! It looks like your precious _Tom_ is going off with my aunt again.”

Harry didn’t even turn to see who Draco was referring to and just laughed, “I didn’t mean jealous because of a romantic relationship Tom and I don’t have, I meant because I am obviously on a friendlier basis with him than you are but it’s good to know what you’re truly after, I suppose.” Harry turned back to Daphne, “It was very nice to meet you all but I am afraid I am needed elsewhere.” He turned around and left without giving Draco the chance to respond.

Harry scanned the crowd and indeed found Tom talking to Bellatrix. Huh, guess romantic tastes run in the family. Rodolphus was not by his wife’s side so Harry had a feeling that Draco was right with his suspicion that those two would be off in a few moments. Even though, for some reason, Harry felt a bit sick at the thought, he was looking forward to Tom’s exit. If he wasn’t there that might Harry could definitely sneak out without getting caught.

“Didn’t get along with the kiddos?” Barty asked, passing Harry a wine glass then following his gaze to where Bellatrix and Tom were, “Oh, don’t worry about that. I don’t think anything is going to happen between them tonight.”

“Crush my dreams don’t you?” Harry sighed. Barty gave him a questioning look, “If _he_ leaves early then _I_ can leave early.” He explained before turning to face his companion, “Most of the kiddos were fine but the Draco-boy seemed quite unhappy with my presence so I decided to depart.”

“Lucius and Narcissa’s son,” Barty said, “They spoiled him rotten as he was their only child.”

“He did come across as quite bratty,” Harry agreed and turned to see if Bellatrix and Tom were still there. Seeing them absent, he scanned the crowd once more, “Hey, do you see Tom anywhere?”

Barty rolled his eyes, “I am not about to help you circumvent my Lord’s orders.”

“So that’s a no?” Barty stayed quiet and Harry grinned, wide and triumphant, “If anyone asks, Hedwig needed me,” He downed the rest of the wine and made a face at the taste, “Or I’m not used to drinking and had to go sober up.” He offered, “The family wing is off limits, correct?” Barty didn’t say anything but Harry could see the smallest of nods, “Goodnight Barty, enjoy the rest of the party.” Harry gave one last scan of the ballroom before nodded to himself, satisfied, and leaving the room behind. 

Tom had finally managed to extract himself from Bellatrix and her sham need of a private conversation to reenter the ballroom. He sighed in relief for the first person he spotted, “Rodolphus!” He called out, “Keep a better eye on your wife. I cannot have distractions right now.” The older man nodded, “She is out in the hallway, no doubt harassing the servers.” He left without comment. Tom wondered if he was happy that Tom had stopped sleeping with Bellatrix over the past six months or if he hated that Tom made her his responsibly again. The answer didn’t really matter to him. He did not believe there was any love lost between Rodolphus and Bellatrix and if there was they could try to fix their marriage now without him involved.

Tom turned and searched for the group of teenagers, frowning when he did not find Harry’s messy head of black hair with the group. He did find Barty however, who was already headed over to him, “Where is Harry?” He asked, or rather demanded.

Barty let out a bark of laughter, “He saw you leave the room with Bella and took the chance to escape. He told me to tell you that he was a lightweight or that Hedwig needed him if you ended up rejoining the party.”

“So he left.” Tom concluded dryly, “And you did not manage to stop him?”

“The boy _did_ come to the event and made an effort to talk to the kiddos,” Barty shrugged, “I thought my job was to maintain friendly relations not control his every move.”

“I think that you can stop calling it a job at this point, Barty.”

The younger man grinned, not even having the decency to look sheepish, “You made a good choice, boss.”

Tom sighed but before he could talk further with Barty, he was pulled into a conversation with a very important businesswoman he wanted to make a deal with. He guessed he would just have to deal with Harry’s desertion when the boy woke up tomorrow. Right now, he needed to focus on the actual purpose of the event. 

Harry could swear the bed was calling his name. It was right there, so big and empty and it looked so luxurious. Sure, the sofa Harry insisted on sleeping on was a hundred times more comfortable than his bed at the Dursleys’ but Tom’s bed looked like it would be ten trillion times more comfortable. He had been thinking of nothing else for the past hour and Harry couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh fuck it,” He muttered to himself, throwing the blankets off. It had been a tough week with all the preparation he had to do. He knew Tom left the party with Bellatrix Lestrange (which he would never admit made his week worse) so Harry knew he wouldn’t be sleeping _here_ tonight. There was no reason not to. Harry crawled onto Tom’s huge plush bed and sighed. It looked just how it felt. With a hum of happiness, Harry burrowed under the sheets, closed his eyes, and drifted off into sleep. 

Tom stopped at the doorway in disbelief. After weeks of trying, there was finally a lump in his bed. A little Harry-shaped lump. Weeks of effort and finally Harry was there.

Only because he was not in the bed.

Tom frowned. Based on what Barty said, he had the feeling that Harry expected him to be gone all night. Harry thought that he had the room to himself for the night and hence chose the bed. It was a ludicrous assumption, of course. Tom would never allow himself to sleep somewhere he was vulnerable but, nevertheless, it was the assumption Harry was working off of.

If he wanted to be considerate, he would choose to sleep on the sofa. Tom would respect Harry’s desire to sleep alone and maybe win points with him when Harry woke up and saw how thoughtful he was.

But it was _his_ bed and unlike Harry, Tom wasn’t used to sleeping on things so uncomfortable it made his sofa seem like a cloud. Tom was used to sleeping in his bed that was a trillion times more comfortable than the sofa and had enough room for him to fully stretch out.

Plus, Tom wasn’t really in the business of being considerate, not even for Harry who he held in greater esteem than any other.

Tom laid down next to Harry, stretched out, then turned to his side to inspect Harry’s face close-up as he fell asleep. 

He woke up to a scream.

Tom sat up alert and looked around to assess the danger. Once he discerned there was none, he groaned and turned to Harry.

“Why are you here?!”

“It’s my bed.” Tom looked at Harry quizzically, “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because you were with Bellatrix last night, not here!”

So he was right. Harry assumed the he would actually spend the night with someone just because he fucked them. And was that a note of upset when Harry said Bella’s name? Jealousy perhaps? How delightful.

“Harry, my bedroom is fingerprint locked and I kept a separate room to bring trysts to. What part of that says I would be willing to actually sleep somewhere vulnerable?” The face Harry made when Tom brought up the topic of trysts was amazing. “I don’t stay the night. Obviously.”

Tom held back a smile at Harry’s pout, “You better have showered before you slept in the same bed as me.”

“Of course I would have,” Tom made a face, “Do I look like someone who would like sleeping in sweat and fluids? There’s another reason I sleep in a different bed. Sex is usually gross.”

Harry looked more and more uncomfortable with the discussion, “I wouldn’t know,” He muttered quietly before speaking up, “If it is so gross why do you do it?” He crossed his arms.

“Because it’s sometimes pleasurable and other people like it,” Tom rolled his eyes, “Indulging Bella from time to time is a good way to keep her frantic loyalty.” Although based on the past six months, it was much less of a necessity than he previously thought. Tom looked at the clock and groaned, “It is four in the morning, come back to bed Harry.”

“I thought you didn’t like sleeping where you are vulnerable.”

“You will not hurt me,” Tom said confidently. He saw the conflicting looks of smugness and offense on Harry’s face, “You are better than that.”

“Bellatrix would be too,” Harry pointed out. His jealousy was getting a little less amusing and a bit more annoying. Tom still thought it was a delightful sign of things to come, “She’s too obsessed with you to ever hurt you.”

“She’s insane,” Tom said dryly, “Forgive me if I do not find letting her into my space something I want to do.”

“My point is she is just as harmless as I am,” Harry sounded frustrated, “And she would actually listen to you! I don’t understand why you let me live with you, in fact insist upon it, when you don’t even allow those you trust here!”

“I like spending time with you,” Tom said simply, “I wouldn’t tolerate anyone else being around me this much.” Besides, he didn’t really trust anyone, there were just people he thought of as less than a threat than others.

“Why?” Harry asked, confused, “I don’t understand.”

Tom could only shrug in response. He certainly wasn’t going to give Harry the love sonnet he was practically begging for before Harry admitted he liked him. “Just go back to sleep, darling. We can play twenty questions when the sun is up.” Harry threw his arms up in frustration, sighed, and began to walk back towards the sofa. “Where are you going?” Tom kept his… mild state of concern out of his voice.

“Back to bed,” Harry said, jabbing his thumb towards the sofa.

“You slept in the same bed as me and the world didn’t end,” Tom said, annoyed, “Your virtue wasn’t stolen away. Nothing bad happened. There is no reason to subject yourself to that when we established we can quite easily share a mattress.” Harry looked conflicted and Tom raised an eyebrow, “There is no reason to subject yourself to that, Harry,” Tom repeated, cajolingly. Harry sighed and walked back over to the bed. Tom held the sheet up for Harry to crawl back in. “See, everything is fine,” Tom wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him closer, “No reason to leave.”

“You said share a bed, not cuddle,” Harry grumbled but didn’t make a move to reject Tom’s embrace. Instead, he just turned onto his side and let Tom spoon him.

“I do not cuddle,” Tom mumbled sleepily.

“Sure,” Harry yawned, just as tired and unwilling to continue the banter, “We are just sharing a bed, totally separate from each other.”

“Shut up,” Tom sighed instead of defending himself. He just needed to have the last word before they drifted off to sleep. Sensing that, Harry only snorted in response and closed his eyes. 

“You know, I did not have sex with Bella last night,” Tom mentioned casually as he was getting dressed the next day, “Which means I am well aware that you ditched the party you told me you would attend as soon as you thought I would not notice your absence.”

Harry made a skeptical sound at Tom’s denial of spending the night with Bellatrix, “I did attend. I even met the people you wanted,” Harry argued, “I just left perhaps a little sooner than you would have desired.” Tom gave Harry a look that he was becoming familiar with, “Besides, I am preparing to leave in a few days. It is important I get my sleep.”

“You left at twenty-two hundred, that is an absurdly early time to go to sleep. Especially since I know you used to do shifts that lasted until two in the morning.”

“I thought you didn’t like my sleeping habits from those days.” The retort came without any hesitation. Tom made a frustrated sound in response which Harry took as a win, “I’m leaving some important things here,” Harry said, voice suddenly quiet, “I don’t feel like some of my parents’ things will be safest in a dorm room.”

Tom kept his smirk internal to not give Harry the wrong impression. “They will be safe here.”

“Inside our— I mean your— room.” Harry said firmly,

“Inside our room,” Tom agreed, subtly fixing Harry’s assumption that this room wasn’t also intended for him. He knew Harry caught it by the noise he made but he didn’t bother arguing which was also a good sign. “Is there anything else I need to get you?” The question was mainly to himself but Harry shook his head in response anyway, “I can always send you things if I forget,” Tom mused.

Harry made a disbelieving send, “Send me anymore stuff and it won’t fit in my dorm room! I’m not even sure if what I have currently will all fit. I definitely don’t need more,”

Tom shrugged, “We will see.”

Hedwig hopped onto Harry’s lap and he started to pet her before freezing, “I won’t be able to take Hedwig, will I?”

Tom also paused. Damn, he didn’t think to bribe anyone to change those rules for Harry, “She will be well looked after here.” Preferably by Barty, not himself.

Harry hugged the cat closer to him, “You won’t let anyone hurt her or let her get into any trouble, right? And send me videos and pictures of her everyday?”

“I suppose,” Tom agreed, sighing heavily. He gifted the cat _to Harry_. He wasn’t planning on having anything to do with it but he supposed this was his fault for forgetting to bribe the person that could change those rules. Harry gave him a doubtful look, Tom wasn’t sure if it was because of his tone or because he doubted Tom’s ability to take care of a small furry thing. Either way, he could not allow it to stand. “I will send you pictures everyday and make sure she is only just a little less spoiled in your absence.” The look got a little less intense but was still there. Tom couldn’t find it in himself to promise anything more, he wasn’t going to dote over it like Harry did.

“I’ll leave you instructions.” Harry said firmly. Tom rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He released his hold on Hedwig and resumed petting her, a forlorn expression on his face as he did. “She deserves to be treated the best.”

Hedwig meowed in agreement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so basically I got really excited that people actually like this (!!!!), still kinda amazed tbh. Anyway, because of that excitement I started plotting out the next arc of this series which is good I suppose but I have this thing about completing stories before I post them so to kind of lessen the gap between the stories, I am only going to update once or twice a week. 
> 
> .... I forget what the other thing I was going to say. Probably something about actually having a plan for the next bit so hopefully it'll be better? 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading! And thank you to the people who comment! I am sorry I don't really respond to them, I do see them and appreciate them, and they do motivate me but I haven't quite managed to get over my 'what do I say? omg omg they liked it! oh shit, social interaction, hide!!!' to do the good writer thing and respond. I am trying to work on that but no promises on when I'll actually do that or be anywhere near constant in replying. Thank you for reading and giving me feedback anyway <3


	7. stinchcombe university

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is my least favorite chapter in the entire story. It is really, really tell-y instead of show-y but my goal with this story is to get them together so I tried to get through the fall semester as fast as I could. There are also a few confusing sentences but I hope it's understandable? Honestly, if it isn't it is unlikely you are missing much... Also I don't know how the British higher education system works, or how college in general works so, um, there's something at least?

Stinchcombe University had a surprisingly nice and spacious campus considering its location on the outskirts of London. All the dorm and student life buildings were in a horseshoe shape based around one central quad. Behind the athletic building were the football fields. The open end of the quad had the library and cafeteria, with the admin and admissions building just beyond that. The library acted as a bit of a gateway to the academic buildings while behind the cafeteria and admin buildings was a large student parking lot.

“Hm, I might have to get you a car,” Tom observed,

“You know I don’t have a driver’s license, right?” Harry asked, giving Tom a sidelong look.

“You do not?” Tom blinked in surprise, “Well, I suppose that is a project for next summer. You do have a passport, right?”

“What gave you the impression the Dursleys would find it necessary to get me a passport?” Harry asked rhetorically.

Tom frowned, “Make a list of everything that you should have but do not,” Tom commanded, “You will need a passport for spring.”

“Ohh, spoilers,” Harry said blandly, “Pull over, it looks like I check in there.”

“As you wish,” Tom stopped the car and idled while Harry got his dorm key and a map showing where it was.

He came back to the car with a frown, “You got me a single?”

“Of course,” _I was not going to let some strange person near you_ , Tom didn’t add, “I thought it for the best,” He said instead.

“I was hoping to have a roommate. Make it easier to get to know someone.” Which is exactly why Tom got him a single room but he knew to keep that to himself.

“You will have an easier time studying this way.” Tom waved him off carelessly, “What building are you in?”

“Richards, the red bricked one.” Harry answered, pointing to a building on the far side, “They would prefer you park then bring your stuff in. So once the _truck_ you made me ship my stuff in arrives, we can head in.”

Tom scoffed, “You can bring your bag in,” He turned the car around to get to the parking lot, “I will have my people handle bringing in everything else.”

“Oh god,” Harry groaned, lugging his new backpack over his shoulders, it was close currently, “I’m going to be known as a stuck-up, rich prat before I even talk to anyone,” He complained.

_You got through fifteen years of school with no friends you can surely do it for four more years._ Again, Tom kept his thoughts to himself. Instead he just let out a short laugh, earning himself a look of ire from Harry. “It is not a big deal, darling,” Tom smoothed over, “I am sure that as soon as anyone talks to you they will realize you are far from a proper rich kid.”

He got another side-eye from Harry, “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or not.” After all, if a proper rich kid meant someone like Draco it was definitely a compliment but if Tom meant it was because he didn’t express himself with enough sophistication then Harry was less than pleased with his response.   
Tom didn’t shrug or really give a response, just opened the room to Harry’s dorm room so he so he could inspect it. It was much larger than even a regular single dorm, in fact if Harry had to guess he would say that it was about the size of a small studio apartment. His guess was made even more accurate by the en suite bathroom and the counter that was perfect for a small kitchenette.

“Well, I suppose I can definitely have my friends study over here,” Harry put his backpack on the wooden desk that came with the room, “It is nice, I’ll admit.”

“I am glad you like it,” Tom’s fingers were moving rapidly over his phone’s screen, “It will be about twenty minutes before the rest of your belongings arrive. We do not need to wait here for them but it would be best to be here when they arrive. The buffoons can do nothing without proper direction.”

“You can look around if you want,” Harry responded, opening the door to the bathroom, “I want to familiarize myself.” He really wanted Tom gone, at least for a little bit, so he could try to talk to the other students moving in but, predictably, Tom decided to stay with him. Twenty minutes passed in relative boredom as Harry made a point to ignore Tom and inspect where he would be living for the next three and a half months. At one point he was just staring at the paint on the wall.

Eventually, Tom’s people came and Harry had the fun task of making sure Tom didn’t completely take over his dorm decorating for him, made even funner by the fact that since they were Tom’s people they would listen to him over Harry. It was a relief when they finally left but Harry did wish he had been able to unpack his things himself. Having someone fold his clothes and hang them up for him just seemed like a little much for him.

“Take good care of Hedwig,” Harry warned Tom soon after they left, all but throwing him out of his space.

“The monster cat can take care of herself,” Tom grumbled then relented at Harry’s stern face, “I will make sure she is treated well, precious.”

“Then I suppose I’ll see you in three months,” Harry said with a satisfied smile.

“There is just one more thing,” Tom opened his wallet and took out an obscene amount of twenty pound notes, “Your credit card should be coming in soon but this is to cover your expenses for the first week.”

“Card?” Harry asked, taking the pounds with bewilderment.

“I made you an authorized user on my Amex account.” Tom flashed his black card before putting his wallet away again, “Feel free to buy as much as you like with it.”

“You really are trying to make it impossible for me to find true friends, aren’t you,” Harry sighed.

Tom frowned, “You know, that does not sound very grateful to me.”

“Thank you dearest,” Harry said sugary sweet, “I know your only intention is to provide for me, after all.” There was a hint of sarcasm in the last sentence but Tom let it go.

“You are welcome,” Tom smiled, “I will see you Harry, sooner than you think.” With those ominous parting words, Tom left before Harry could ask their meaning. 

Orientation lasted a week and despite Harry’s worries, he found he was actually able to make a few friends. The one he was closest to was Neville Longbottom. He shared Harry’s floor and also had a private room. Unlike Harry, (or maybe like Harry, he still didn’t know much about his father’s family) Neville came from a well-off aristocratic family, although his parents got in a car accident when he was young and were both in comas. His grandmother took care of him and doted on him to some extent but… Well, that was all Harry really knew. Neville made a certain face when his grandmother was mentioned so there were obviously problems there but Neville had not disclosed what they were yet.

The two kept each other company throughout the week, not finding anyone else they really got along with yet. Harry did find some people that he wanted to avoid at all costs, however, so he supposed that was at least good to know. The chief amongst them was Zacharias Smith, who luckily lived in another dorm building. He faintly reminded Harry of his singular meeting with Draco, although it took even less time for him to decide that Zacharias was not someone he wanted to be around.

The credit card arrived mid-week just as Tom said it would. Harry wasn’t expecting to be in further contact with Tom for quite a while so it came as a surprise when he near abducted Harry the Sunday before classes started to take him to brunch. The restaurant that Tom took them to was definitely fancier than Harry would have wanted, especially since Tom hadn’t given him time to change so he was only in a pair of jeans and tee-shirt as opposed to Tom’s nicely pressed pants and polo shirt. He looked around the restaurant awkwardly, “Why couldn’t you have waited for me to get changed?” Harry squirmed slightly in discomfort.

“I do not trust that you would not run off on me.” Tom replied casually.

“I wouldn’t do that.” The truth was that Harry didn’t know if he was lying or not but Tom raised an eyebrow at his denial anyway.

“You looked horrified to see me. I was not taking any chances.” He said firmly.

Harry grumbled, “You made me ditch Neville,” He finally sighed. The two students had been taking a walk around campus to orient themselves to their new surroundings. They had just finished visiting the classrooms Neville would have his lessons in and were going to start searching for Harry’s when Tom’s car pulled up besides them on the curb. It was the same luxury car that Tom had when he went to pick Harry up from the Dursleys. Tom somehow argued Harry into going to breakfast with him and although Harry offered, for some reason, Neville declined to come with them. Harry was going to volunteer Tom to drive Neville back to their building, the boy really had the worst sense of direction and Harry didn’t want him to get lost, but before he knew it, Tom was already driving away.

“Neville?” The displeased undertone to Tom’s voice was thankfully subtle enough that Harry could ignore it.

“The guy I was walking with,” Harry explained, “He’s on the same floor as me.”

“Interesting, do you like him?”

“Yeah, he seems like he’ll be a pretty good friend,” Harry shrugged, “Why are you down here anyway?” He asked after the waiter had taken their orders. Tom was careful to not order for Harry. Since Harry's two hour long rant in the car when they were driving to Stinchcombe, he had been considering his next moves. He came to the conclusion that in order for Harry to willing become his, he would need to allow him a bit of freedom, a concept completely foreign to Tom.

Some might say driving two-and-a-half hours to show up unexpectedly and take him to brunch was not allowing him a bit of freedom but it was the last time Tom was planning on doing it this year… or maybe this month, definitely the last time he would be doing it this week.

“I just wanted to see how you were settling in.”

“And once you saw I was settling in well, you had to interrupt?”

“I thought you might not be happy if I stalked you so I decided to bring you to brunch instead.”

“I suppose this is the better option,” Harry agreed and the subject changed to Harry’s experiences so far.

Harry thought that would be the last he heard from Tom for a while and indeed during the next week Barty texted him occasionally. Tom stayed silent, however, except for the daily pictures of Hedwig that Harry was very happy to see he followed through with. On the days he had classes, Harry received videos too but he didn’t really notice the trend. He didn’t tell Tom when his classes were so it was obviously just a coincidence.

Harry and Neville only had a few general education required classes together. Neville, to Harry’s surprise, seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do once finished with university; he planned to become a botanist. He did minor in business because his grandmother required it. She threatened to keep his inheritance from him if he didn’t prove he could responsibly manage it. It was to push him towards getting some job in finance or business but Neville was set on being a botanist and managed to fulfill those requirements by adding a minor instead. Some of it was hell for him, he told Harry, because although he was really good with plants, science was not his best subject. Harry, on the other hand, had little to no idea what he wanted to major in so he aimed to get a majority of his general education classes out of the way. He was sure it would pay off when he actually knew what he wanted to do.

At the conclusion of his first week of college, Harry received a package unexpectedly. He remembered Tom saying that he would ship him if he forget something but he couldn’t think of anything he might have forgotten so was surprised when he was told. It was small with only his name and address on it, despite the lack of return address and plain packaging, Harry knew it was from Tom. He took it up to his dorm room and sat it on the desk. Harry decided to open it after he changed. Both Neville and him were invited to a TGIF party hosted by the Patil twins two floors down but Neville seemed awkward about the idea and it would be a long time before Harry had any positive associations with the word ‘party.’

The only thing was that they were the only two that decided not to attend the party and well, since they knew each other it seemed a bit weird to be alone in their dorm rooms while the other was doing the same thing a few doors down, so it was decided that Neville would come over to Harry’s dorm and they could hang out together. Harry wasn’t sure if either of them really wanted to do as such but it felt like it was the thing to do. Nevertheless, Harry still changed into sweatpants and a tee shirt, his outfit sending the clear message that he was not going anywhere. No thank you, tonight was for relaxing.

Apparently with the aid of a really nice pair of headphones, Harry discovered once he sat on his bed and unwrapped the package sent to him, and a framed picture of Hedwig, which Harry was more grateful for. The picture was set up on his nightstand and the box that contained the headphones was discarded on his desk for him to deal with later. He took out his phone and sent a quick ‘thanks’ to Tom before putting it away again and waiting for Neville to arrive.

The gift wasn’t strictly necessary but it was something that Harry appreciated. That he got another package the next week was a little strange though. And another one the week after that. And one the week after that. When he only had Neville to compare to, it seemed normal, Neville's grandmother would also send him things on a weekly basis but once he started expanding his friend circle, he noticed how weird it was. His new friends had started to tease him and guess at who the packages could be coming from, since their tease about an overprotective mother had been shot down by Harry’s bland pronouncement of his parents’ deaths.

Finally, a month after school started he received an Apple watch despite having no use for one whatsoever, especially since he had been using the watch Tom gave him for his birthday. When Harry brought it up on one of their weekly calls, Tom dismissed his question, telling him to wear the apple watch for everyday wear and the watch he got for his birthday to formal occasions. 

It was at that point that Harry had to admit the truth to himself: he had accidentally become a sugar baby. Tom providing for him had gone way beyond what Harry asked for, past what Harry could have hoped for, and straight into sugar baby land. There was absolutely no other explanation for the amount of expensive stuff Tom kept sending him, most of which he didn’t even need or would just take up space! Of course, Harry tried to confront Tom about his excessive gift giving but as the weeks continued, Harry learned the best thing to do with just thank Tom for his gifts. If he made a big deal out of it, Tom would become even more ridiculous. One week that meant a small gift everyday, another receiving a car despite Tom knowing damn well and good that he did not know how to drive. Eventually, even his friends got tired of teasing him. It just became… routine.

That’s not to say that the presents became any less impressive, just that Harry got used to it. When Tom sent him an expensive designer tee-shirt, he warned Tom that his wardrobe could not hold much more and thanked him. When he decided to start running and received a heart rate monitor, he thanked him and even went out to buy a quality pair of running shoes using Tom’s credit card by his own initiative. Harry also found that if he called Tom once a week, he was more likely to get useful things rather than something that was just to remind Harry of Tom’s mark on his life.

It turned into a pretty good thing between them too. Friday, Harry would receive a gift and text Tom thank you then Sunday evening he would video call Tom and they would chat. Sometimes Tom would help Harry with his homework, mirroring how they first got to know each other the year before. They would be chat for hours and Sunday afternoon became known amongst Harry’s friends as ‘the boyfriend time’ when you did not ever disturb Harry. They wouldn’t tell Harry why they said it so ominously. 

It did have the effect of making Harry think on his relationship with Tom, however, and he started to realize that some things Tom said didn’t make sense. His boasting about his gang was the biggest one that confused Harry, either he was lying about how powerful he was or he was abnormally tolerant of Harry. With everything that Harry could piece together about Tom’s organization, he should have been dead the moment he dared blackmail Tom but instead Tom took him into his home and gave him protection. Which was another weird thing. Harry knew all of Tom’s men respected (or feared) him too much to act against Harry when Tom declared him his guest. There was no reason for Harry to have to sleep in Tom’s room. It was a ludicrous excuse that Harry should have saw through much earlier. Tom wanted Harry with him.

There wasn’t any other explanation for the cuddling they did the last few nights before Harry left.

After the realization that Tom wanted to be close to Harry, Harry started to fit all the other things that didn’t make sense previously. At the dinner party Tom made him act as a sort of co-host because he planned on Harry being a co-host eventually. He left the door to his study unlocked so Harry would have something to do. He showed off his power so Harry would understand that he was voluntarily helping Harry (and wasn’t that a scary thought? Harry really did have no leverage over this dangerous man).

He was voluntarily helping Harry.

The thought made Harry pause. All the things Tom offered to help with when his motives could had been questionable were not as suspicious as Harry thought. He had no control over Tom at all. It didn’t matter if Tom knew about his money. It didn’t matter if Tom received custody over his UTMA. It didn’t matter if Harry relied on Tom as his lawyer. They weren’t going to be valuable to Tom since he didn’t need any leverage against Harry.

All those thoughts made Harry reflect on how he felt about Tom.

His first impression, he remembered, was that ‘Ted’ was hot but scary as fuck. At least until he pointed out the mistake Harry made on his homework. Then he was just annoying as fuck. Even though Tom could be a bit of a nosy know-it-all, Harry had looked forward to seeing him. He was snarky and always got Harry bantering with him. Besides all that, he really was a good tipper. Even while Harry was forming his first suspicions and trying to draw back from Tom, he still enjoyed their interactions.

The night he came in soaked in blood changed that. Harry now had his proof that his suspicions were correct and although he tried to keep the same banter, at least for a few months he was scared stiff every time they talked, wondering if this was going to be the night Tom decided that he was a risk having seen him like that, and decide that it was safer to dispose of Harry. Enough time passed that Harry figured out that wasn’t going to happen. Looking back, it was probably Tom’s fondness for Harry that prevented the older man from killing him.

Although Harry still tracked everything Tom did and convinced himself that he was going to turn Tom in, he fell back into the banter with some relief. On the surface, those conversations didn’t seem like enough to form a connection between them but thinking back on them, Harry realized that they both revealed more of themselves than they realized at the time. Sure, they never had a heart-to-heart but Tom found out about Harry’s dead parents and his insecurities about the future while Harry learned of how Tom could not seem to find anything in life that brought him true joy, how despite everything he did not feel like there any excitement and he was normally in a state of apathy about life and the world. All of those revelations between bits of banter that substituted as reassurance.

Working the night shift messed Harry up, but even if he did have the opportunity to, he would not have asked to change shifts. Not if it meant that he wouldn’t be able to talk to ‘Ted.’

Harry did not know when he started to seriously lust after Tom. It might have been the moment he first saw him, it might have been that sliver of his body Harry saw on The Night. Likewise, looking back, Harry did not know when Tom won his full trust. Despite his jabs over the summer, Harry realized that if he truly did not trust Tom he would have been much more cautious around him. He would not have let his things be in Tom’s room without his supervision otherwise. He would have never sent some of his treasures ahead. Ultimately, he would not have blackmailed Tom if he did not trust Tom would stick to his word.

Harry realized that he enjoyed spending time with Tom, felt attraction towards him, and trusted him. Thinking about him leaving forever made Harry feel hollow. He recognized that all those pieces together made it pretty likely he was at least a little bit in love with Tom but he had been wrapped up in denial about trusting Tom that he never put it together until then.

It took the rest of the semester for Harry to really get his head around it. He remembered hanging out with his friends and attending class but he had the feeling the thing that he would remember most about his first semester at college was how much time he spent obsessing over his feelings for Tom Riddle.   
He became more excited to see Tom’s gift each week. He looked forward to their video calls but he would also text Tom throughout the day and talk with him on the phone at least twice a week. Most damningly, Harry started to miss Tom and wish he would come by like he did that first weekend (not that he ever admitted that to Tom).

So it goes without saying that despite having to part with his friends, Harry was thrilled when the semester ended. He was finally going to get to really explore this thing between the two of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I am just closing my eyes and pressing post. Next chapter Tom and Harry will be back together again and I actually like most of the events that happen :D 
> 
> I'll post it as soon as I finish writing the first chapter of the sequel or in two weeks, whichever comes first. Thank you for the comments and motivation!


	8. winter break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom picks Harry up from Stinchcombe. Something happens and Harry learns the details of Tom's business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say almost every chapter that Tom is not a good person but since Harry gets the details of his business here I feel like I need to restate it. **Tom. Is. Not. A. Good. Person.** I am putting trigger warnings in the end note for this. All of the things are only barely mentioned but I don't want someone to triggered accidentally.

Tom was shocked when Harry didn’t argue about letting his people take care of Harry’s dorm room while they drove home. He actually agreed, with a small smile, and put three bags of the things most important to him in the car, saying the others could take care of the rest. He seemed to be a bit nervous about it, which Tom thought was understandable, Harry always seemed very protective of his possessions.

“They know better than to get so much as get a scratch on any of your things.”

“And the things that can’t be scratched?” Harry asked, surprising Tom with the tease, “Will those things be alright too?”

“I would not let them transport your things if they would be harmed.” Tom smiled, pleased. He had noticed the past two weeks that Harry started to relax more around him. No, that didn’t seem to be the quite right word for it. Maybe it was better said that Harry stopped keeping up the wall he had around him. Tom loved it honestly. “I assume you will want to see Hedwig before anything else?”

“You assume correct,” Harry nodded lightly.

“Then that should serve as sufficient motivation.”

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

“We have to get you a couple of suits.” Tom pulled into the parking lot of an upscale men’s boutique, “The holidays are a common time for parties.”

Harry was so used to Tom indulging him in their video chats that he forgot what an ass the man could be in person. Reluctantly, he exited the car, “And it has to be now?”

“I would have thought you would rather get it done now than have me drag you out a different day when we might have a longer period to shop.”

Harry sighed and hastened his steps, “Let’s just get this done with.”

“Why do I need two suits?” Harry asked, frustrated, “It’s only one holiday party. Surely one suit is enough!”

Tom looked at Harry in faux bafflement, “One holiday party? Harry, didn’t you listen when I told you about my organization? You should know that.... oh wait, that’s right you were satisfied with the minimalist version.”

Harry’s eye twitched, so many months ago and he still seemed to hold a grudge, “Would you like to tell me now that I know it is important?”

Tom looked considering, “I suppose you have been good enough that you earned a bit more of the story. I have three levels that I operate on. The completely legitimate business, the high society syndicate, and my dependents from the Gaunts who conduct more tradition underworld dealings. The first party will be for those who are not aware of my business and the syndicate. The second party will be for my retinue which will undoubtedly be a better time.”

“Syndicate? Dependents?”

Tom looked cruelly amused, “Why, Harry, I do not think that you have earned that information yet.”

Harry sighed heavily, “And what do I have to do to find out?”

“I am sure I will think of something.” Tom’s amusement was just getting more and more concerning to Harry. He may not be in denial anymore but that didn’t mean that he was suddenly foolish.

Harry let Tom and the shop worker continue to use him as a doll. He wanted to get the trip over with as soon as possible. It still took two hours but they found suits that fit him well enough that Harry wouldn’t need to get them tailored, which he supposed was a good thing.

Two hours later and they were finally out of the shop. About halfway through the trip, Harry had changed his mind about Tom. He was awful. There was no way he had feelings for this prat. “Now, we can go home so you can see Hedwig.” Harry glanced over at the driver’s seat. Fuck. Everything was a lie. That fond smile that Tom was giving him? Yeah, there wasn’t a doubt in Harry’s mind. He was in love with the prat. 

As soon as they got to the manor, Harry sprinted out of the car to go looking for Hedwig. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so excitable, Tom thought, but he imagined being away from his dearest Nagini for three months and could understand Harry’s urgency. Although, a lot of Harry’s actions had been uncharacteristic since he picked him up from Stinchcombe University. He hadn’t been as confrontational and Tom was torn as to if this was a good thing or not.

Tom glanced at Harry’s items in the back of the car. He might understand his darling leaving them like that, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one picking up after him. Tom snapped his fingers to summon Kyle, “Take care of this,” He instructed. Tom followed Harry’s path and was quite surprised when he found him sitting discontentedly on the sofa in their room.

“Don’t worry, I’ll move my things out,” Harry gave Tom a crooked smile that looked more than a little bit devastated, “Really you should have just moved my stuff. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Tom gave Harry an odd look, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Hedwig was by Barty’s door-“

Tom rolled his eyes, “-he gives her way too many treats-“

“And I saw that your sex room looked… occupied. You moved someone in there and if you are in a relationship I doubt they are comfortable with us sharing a room… or a bed.”

“There is no one,” Tom stopped Harry before this absurd conversation could go any further. The boy opened his mouth but Tom didn’t let him speak before continuing, “I decided I did not need that room anymore and let one of my minions take it.” He stopped for a second and looked at Harry’s blushing face. “You are not under any circumstances to move out.” _Nor are you to move from my bed._

“Oh,” Tom had to admit, he really loved that pink color on Harry’s cheeks. He looked so embarrassed and flustered. He bit his lip as if trying to keep in words. It didn’t work, “There’s really no one?”

“The only one I want in my room-“ _in my bed_ “-is you.” He loved the shy smile he got from that even more than the blush on Harry’s face. There were so many things that he could say, so many moves he could make. He knew now that Harry would accept them. He would respond if Tom kissed him or get huffy if Tom teased him about jumping to conclusions or being jealous. But that wasn’t what he wanted right now, so instead he sat down on the sofa next to Harry and angled himself to face him, “You found the demon cat then?”

“You let her wander free!” Harry exclaimed angrily, “Anything could have happened to her, Tom! Anyone could have hurt her or killed her! I know the type of guys that you work with aren’t exactly the friendliest kind and Hedwig loves people so much! What if one of them hurt her?!?”

Well, at least Harry’s delusions about his cat never changed.

“Harry, somehow, please do not ask me how I saw the security footage and I still do not understand, she gets out every time I lock her in here-“

“-Hedwig is very smart-“ Harry smiled and the damned cat jumped on his laps to demand pets after the compliment,

“-and trust me, she can take care of herself.” Tom gave the cat a nasty look. One of his few injures that scarred came from that thing, which admittedly was a reason he got her for Harry since she was apparently protective of ‘her humans.’

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Did something happen?”

Tom hesitated, on one hand, Harry would probably be pissed at him, on the other maybe it would finally get him to see the cat for what she truly was, “Mr. Fieldings,” Better to distance himself from the man, “Got a bit too close for Hedwig’s taste-“

“-How?”

“He tried to nudge her out of the way with his shoe while he was walking.” Nudge sounded much better than kicked, and it wasn’t like the cat let his foot touch her, “Next thing he knew he was on the ground with her claws digging into his eyes.”

Harry beamed down at his cat, “Such a smart girl. What did you do to make sure that would never happen again?” Harry asked, deadly serious expression on his face.

Luckily, Tom had expected this question, “I made sure everyone got a good look at the damage Hedwig caused and tried to have Barty keep her on a leash but he almost lost a hand. So far nobody else has been stupid enough to mess with the little demon,”

“Hmm… Fury,”

“What?”

“Hedwig is much more of a fury than a demon.”

“They both come from the underworld and I don’t think it makes too much of a difference to their victims. Kyle upset her one day-“ Tom hurried on before Harry could get worked up, “-he tried to take away one of her prey before she could… stockpile it. Hedwig went for the crotch. Luckily he got out unscathed. Hedwig decided to eat the mouse.”

“She’s a cat,” Harry said blandly, “That’s what they do.”

Tom shrugged, “Kyle was worried about her eating something they that did not know where it came from or what diseases the mouse might have.”

Harry turned his frown on the cat in his lap that just meowed innocently back, “That is a valid concern,” He admitted, “I wouldn’t want Hedwig to be poisoned.” He gave the cat a stern look, “No more of that.” He said firmly, “I don’t want you to get sick.” Hedwig meowed again and rubbed her head against Harry’s hand like she was agreeing with him. It certainly seemed like Harry was sure that was what was happening. Tom thought she was a manipulative fuck and as soon as Harry turned away she would do whatever she wanted again.

“I think I’m going to take a bath now.” Harry gently moved Hedwig out of his lap, stood up and stretched, “I missed it while I was at university.”

Later at night, when Harry thought Tom had already fallen asleep, an arm thrown over his waist, he whispered that he missed this too. 

“I was thinking about what you said when you first moved in,” Tom said spontaneously while sitting in his private library with Harry. Predictably, the latter gave him a puzzled look, “That I have nothing on you, no leverage.” He expounded, “I decided I needed to fix that.” Harry opened his mouth then closed it when Tom continued, “I already looked into your background before you came to live here, so I know there is nothing I can use there.” He stood up and moved around his desk to take a seat opposite Harry on one of the armchairs, “So I decided to go about this a different way.”

Harry finally noticed the folder Tom held as he placed it on the table in front of him. He rose his eyebrows, Tom just nodded at him to pick up the folder so he did.

Harry didn’t know what he expected to be inside it; maybe some type of fabricated evidence against him or an employment contract so if Tom ever went down he would take Harry with him. It certainly wasn’t this.

“A marriage agreement?” Harry asked incredulously, “That will help you how?”

“Have you heard of spousal privilege?” Tom asked, a smirk on his face, “It means that you cannot testify against me. That anything I tell you is privileged information.”

Harry didn’t believe this was the only way Tom could go about securing his silence but he supposed it worked well enough. Probably. “You know, I always thought I would have a more romantic proposal than this.” Sarcasm was heavy in his voice and it seemed to make Tom’s eyes light up.

“The proposal comes after we sign the contract.”

“Very business-like,” Harry sighed and started to read it through.

“Not entirely,” Tom admitted under his breath. Harry looked up at him with a slight smile and lowered his head to finish reading the contract. He put it down on the coffee table with a slight frown, “Thoughts?”

“I want alimony if we divorce,” Harry said, still looking at the contract. He took a deep breath then let the words rush out of his mouth, “And kids. I want us to have kids.” 

Tom was about to say that he would never allow them to get divorced but was struck dumb by Harry’s second announcement. He sat silently for a few minutes, also looking at the contract, “We can discuss that.” He said carefully. Truthfully, Tom had never thought of children before. He had never really been around children before, “Anything else?”

Harry looked up at him with a spark of hope in his eyes. Tom wondered if there was a way to get a half-kid. That would be a good compromise, right? Or maybe a part-time kid? He’d figure it out once they actually signed the marriage papers.

“This marriage will be one of equals.” Harry knew Tom had more power than him but that did not need to be brought into their marriage, “I won’t be subservient to you. All clauses in here will apply to you as well as I.” Harry was specifically thinking of the fidelity clause. Sue him, he was a bit insecure. He was marrying someone drop-dead gorgeous, older than him, and Harry would be away for a significant portion of the year, it would be astonishing if he wasn’t insecure, especially since they were not in a committed relationship before the marriage was proposed.

“Naturally,” Tom nodded, relieved that Harry hadn’t had an extreme reaction to his idea. Honestly, he knew it was a long shot and had other ideas for when Harry shot it down. The fact that he didn’t was a minor miracle. It was a major one that he agreed with so loose of terms. Those talks and gifts must have really helped, Tom mused.

He picked up Harry’s hand and kissed the back of it once they each signed the document. “I look forward to officially making you my wife.”

Harry made a disgusted face, “We need to add a clause; you are not allowed to refer to me as your wife. Ever.”

Tom laughed and Harry pouted at his teasing. Tom stood up, walked around the table and quickly bent down to kiss Harry’s cheek, “Come on, future-husband, we have a dinner to get ready for.”

Harry paused, half-standing, “You aren’t going to propose to me in front of everyone at your little party, right?”

Tom smirked, “You did say you wanted something more romantic.”

“Tom!” Harry exclaimed, following him out of the room, “You know I didn’t mean like that!” He near whined, “I think your admirers might kill me! Aren’t you supposed to keep me safe?”

Tom laughed at Harry’s increasingly panicked exclamations. He opened his night table, whirled around to face Harry, and got down on one knee, “Harry, darling, will you marry me?”

In Harry’s opinion, the proposal was a little weak but it was better than a proposal via contract, “Yes,” He couldn’t help but smile as the ring slid onto his finger. He couldn’t say he expected this when he came home from university with his new revelation about the love he had for Tom but he couldn’t say he was too displeased. The man was his now.

Tom was thinking something very similar: _You are mine now. And I will never let you go._

The dinner party was boring, luckily or not, the Lestranges were absent and Barty seemed to be the only one to have noticed Harry’s ring but Harry was pretty sure he knew Tom’s plan already. In Harry’s opinion, it was a waste of time, but most of Tom’s events were. The night was wonderful, however. Now that they were engaged, Harry felt a lot less shy about snuggling into Tom’s embrace when they went to bed and sighed in contentment at the kiss he placed on the back of his shoulders.

“Goodnight love.”

“Goodnight fiancé.” 

Good night or not, Harry didn’t forget that Tom’s excuse (or at least he hoped it was an excuse) for the proposal was insuring he could trust Harry with the details of his operation. He didn’t ask about it as soon as they woke up, it would ruin the soft, almost romantic ambience, but after they finished breakfast, Harry followed Tom into his ground floor office and shut the door behind him. Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise as Harry took a seat in front of his desk, “You promised me information,” He said simply.

“Indeed I have, dearest,” Tom looked approving at Harry’s actions, “I told you before that I inherited connections both low and high. I use both of those connections but I did not exactly combine them into a bigger business like you supposed. I have the mafia and my syndicate. As I said, my grandfather and uncle had let their control slip previously so I had to get things in a better order. If any gang wants to operate in my area, they have to get my approval.”

“And what is your area?”

“Only Britain and Scotland currently,” Tom said casually, “Wales should fall into my possession fairly soon, however.”

“You control the British underworld,” Harry stated, his mind racing, “You allow human trafficking and all that violence! Tom!”

The man just shrugged, “I do not control it, dear, I just regulate it.” Harry looked scandalized and Tom rolled his eyes, “Precious, I am able to control where those businesses operate, not that they exist. Some of them do not even give me enough money for me to offer them legal protection if they get caught.” Tom saw Harry getting ready to rant and cut him off, “You can have input into my business when you are actually a Riddle. You did agree to be my equal, my partner. It will be our business then.” Tom stated firmly. Harry could argue that he just wanted to marry Tom, not take control of the underworld but let it go for now.

“I also provide the best money laundering and forgery services in Britain.” Tom looked very satisfied with himself, “On the other end is my syndicate.” He seemed even more gleeful talking about this enterprise, “Everyone in it thinks its a joint venture to more efficiently commit white collar crimes; all financial and political business. What they have all failed to realize is that I am the center point for it all. Even better, I conned most of them into giving up their bank information and hiring me as their barrister. If they ever get out of line I can just cut them off!”

Harry leaned back, “What do you mean by financial and political?”

“I mean that I am turning Britain into an oligarchy with myself at the top.”

“A thinly veiled dictatorship.” Harry concluded.

“And now you, precious, will get to be at the top with me.”

Harry looked Tom straight in the eyes, “I want the human and sex trafficking to stop.”

“Good luck.” Tom also leaned back, looking much less gleeful than he did while describing his whole organization, “If you can do it I will not stand in your way.”

“But you won’t just hand them over to face justice?” Harry asked, already knowing the answer but frustrated just the same.

Tom shrugged, “The ones I have in my control keep other gangs out. If I destroy them, little bands will pop up everywhere and it will be much harder to keep control,”

“Damnit, Tom, there’s a line!”

“Oh personally I don’t involve myself in any of that.”

“That as in human trafficking or that as in morals?”

“Both, ideally,” Tom responded, “As I said, I will not stop you and as my husband I will make sure no harm befalls you but if you are going after them, the whole thing becomes your responsibility, including the aftermath. Especially dealing with the aftermath. Think on it long and hard, love.”

Harry gave Tom a scornful look, the first one Tom had ever actually gotten from Harry when it came to his criminal activities, “I don’t think I’ll need to.”

Tom sighed, “And there’s that overconfidence that is going to get you into trouble. You will wait five years to familiarize yourself with the reality of this all before you attempt anything.”

Tom’s face was hard and Harry knew this was something he wasn’t going to budge on. “I understand.”

“If you do not keep this promise I will go back to my original plan.”

“What original plan?”

“The plan to kidnap you and keep you captive.” Tom replied seriously, “Your safety is important and I am not going to risk it.”

“Wait, back up a moment, when was that a plan?”

“Promise me you will wait at least five years.”

“I already said I understood!” Harry snapped, “I promise I won’t make any moves until I understand enough to make an informed decision. Now, what was that about kidnapping?”

“Harry, I knew a long time ago I was keeping you,” Harry made a face at the phrasing but Tom ignored it. “Even if you had not tried to blackmail me you would still end up here. With a significantly less amount of freedom and choice in the matter.”

Harry was struck silent for a minute. Finally, he got up from his seat and moved to sit on the arm of Tom’s chair instead, taking his hand. “I think I’ve gotten way too used to how creepy you are because that seems actually sweet to me.”

Tom grinned and Harry couldn’t help smiling fondly back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: talk of human and sex trafficking 
> 
> This is a spoiler-y note but if you think Harry gave into Tom's demand of five years too easily, I suggest you reread _exactly_ what Harry said. ~~hello plot of sequel~~
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting!!


	9. the first christmas party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second? third? party in a work that has way too many parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: a new reoccurring character who will be moderately important/a deus-ex-machina in the series and the introduction of a new sub-plot.

“Which one is this for?” Harry asked, trying to fix his hair into some sort of style other than ‘birds’ nest.’

“The syndicate and people of similar status.” Tom sighed and stopped Harry from fussing with his hair. He spent enough time with Harry to know nothing would tame it. Harry dealt with his hair everyday of his life so he wasn’t sure why Harry still held out hope for a lost cause.

“Right.” Harry nodded and held up his left hand, “Am I keeping this on or off?”

Tom made a growl-like sound, “You cannot change your mind—“

“Tom!” Harry cut him off, “I’m not talking about ending our engagement, I am talking about the optics of you proposing to someone only a year legal and ten years your junior. Is it going to cause a scandal or trouble for you?”

Tom was caught off-guard. He hadn’t really thought any further past getting the ring on Harry’s finger but the younger man was right. The optics of their situation would be poor to say the least. Part of him did not care and wanted to declare Harry was his to the whole world. It was the same part that didn’t consider how foolhardy it would be to kidnap Harry from his place of employment. Another part of him, the part of him that forced him to consider killing his darling when he first revealed the blackmail, was telling him that Harry was right. If he wanted to eventually enter politics, which he did—doing everything by proxy just didn’t cut it sometimes—their relationship would look bad. It would be a huge mark against him.

“You will wear it on a chain,” Tom said reproachfully. “I do not want to see you without it.”

Harry was also disappointed by the turn of events but nodded anyway and willingly strung the chain with the ring around his neck, “You restored my mother’s engagement ring.” Tom’s eyebrows rose, he had not thought Harry had studied the ring enough to identify it, but he remembered Harry had a year to stare at it before he gave it to Tom for safe-keeping.

“I only had it polished and resized.” Tom felt compelled to say.

Harry nodded and clutched at the ring, “Thank you.” He half-smiled, still looking at Tom through his reflection in the mirror. “It gives a good excuse if anyone sees it. It’s not strange to hold onto family heirlooms.”

Tom stilled. He hated the idea of denying what the ring symbolized, but he nodded anyway. “Guests are expected to arrive soon.”

“So I need to hurry up?” Harry turned away from the mirror with a huff, “You know, I’m really not made to be a trophy husband. All these events are just…” Tom started laughing as soon as Harry referred to himself as a trophy husband. Harry huffed again, “I need to find a job where I won’t be expected to attend these sort of things.”

“Good luck, precious,” Tom said with a bright smile, “But for now we can’t keep our guests waiting.” 

“I know you can fake a smile,” Tom said off-handedly to Harry before they entered the ballroom. Harry’s expression clearly asked where he was going with this. “It would be greatly appreciated if you did. There are people here that can help you go far if you impress them.”

“And it would be an bad if they have a poor opinion of me when you marry me in a few years,” Harry added bluntly. Tom couldn’t deny his words even if he really wished to. “I’ll behave. Just don’t leave me alone forever.” Tom nodded shortly and pushed open the door that separated the family section of the house from the public side of the manor.

The ballroom was right in front of them, double doors wide open, with a line of well-dressed people gracefully sliding in. Tom tapped his shoulder and inclined his head towards where the younger group was gathered. Harry refrained from screwing up his face, although he wanted to, gave Tom a short nod and started to walk over.

When he got to the group, he recognized Daphne, Draco, Theo, and Blaise but there was no sign of the other three he had met at the last event. He was sure that his expression slipped for just a moment when he saw who Draco was talking to: Zacharias Smith. It was too late to change direction now, especially, seeing as Smith had spotted him and was pointing over Draco’s shoulder. The blonde boy turned and upon meeting Harry’s eyes, his face transformed into a sneer.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it, but it is considered a bit rude to point in formal situations, Smith.” Harry’s tone was even and did not hold the slightest bit of reprimand in it, just a slight teasing lilt that could be easily excused. “Hello, Miss Greengrass, I see your sister is not accompanying you this evening?”

“Sadly, she is still a year too young for this event,” Daphne explained with a slight, warm smile. Harry did not know if she actually felt the emotion or if she was just a good actress, either way, she behaved much better than Draco who he could tell was just dying to make his way into the conversation.

“A shame,” Harry agreed then turned to Theo, “I don’t believe we talked when we last met. Harry Potter,” He introduced himself, holding out a hand.

Theo took it was markedly more eagerness than the others, “Theodore Nott Junior, I believe you may have conversed with my father before.”

Harry remembered that Theodore Nott was one of the people Tom said worked in both businesses with him. ‘A good man’ according to Tom, which could really mean anything. Harry didn’t recall talking to anyone who looked like the younger Nott but nodded anyway, “Tom has spoken highly of him,” Harry added, not able to comment about the conversation he could not remember and wasn’t sure existed, “One of his oldest friends, I believe he said.”

Theo nodded. It was obvious to Harry that Theo learned something of the closeness between Tom and him from his father and wanted to suck up, or at the very least not get on Harry’s bad side. “If I remember right, you go to Oxford, correct?” Harry asked; university was always good for small talk. “How is it?”

Harry had to keep prodding Theo to continue the conversation but he had a feeling it was because Theo was not used to talking. His remarks were insightful, which made Harry think he was the listen and observe type. Eventually, the rest of the group started a conversation of their own but Harry could see Daphne occasionally looking at the two of them in amusement. Harry stopped trying to force the conversation, and instead stood next to Theo, sporadically commenting on someone or another. This seemed to work much better as Theo would reply with witty comments of his own.

After about a hour, a middle-aged woman came over to talk to Theo. Harry departed, weaving his way through the crowd to where Barty was. It took longer than he would have liked to get there; Harry had taken Tom’s advice and stopped for short conversations with various people. Conversations that were just long enough for them to remember him as likable but not long enough for them to form a true opinion on him.

“Hey kid,” Barty clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder as soon as he finished his conversation with a young energetic-looking woman.

“Do you think I did enough of this that I can go to sleep now?” Harry muttered to Barty, eyes darting around to make sure no one could overhear them. The small-talk with strangers was reminding Harry too much of the Dursley’s habit of sucking up for his liking.

“Not a chance.” Barty’s grin was evident in his voice, “People have noticed your presence, they’ll notice if you disappear now.”

Harry managed to stop a swear from escaping his mouth but he wasn’t sure if he managed to stop his expression from falling, “It’s been forever, how long do these things go on for?” Harry remembered to speak at less than a whisper half-way through his sentence and it seemed like no damage was done.

“Look there,” Barty walked into Harry’s line of sight and tilted his head to the side. Harry glanced that way and found Bellatrix approaching Tom from one side while Draco approached him from another. “That’s going to be fireworks.”

“Does Bellatrix know her nephew is crushing on her crush?” Harry asked in faint amusement,

“No clue,” Barty shrugged, “I doubt she pays Draco enough attention to pick up on it.” He gave Harry a look, “Shouldn’t you be making your escape now while Tom won’t notice?”

“You said people would notice if I leave,” Harry had a small smirk on his face, “And I want to see what happens.”

Barty laughed, loudly enough to attract the attention of the people closest to them. “Let’s get closer, see if we can hear them too."

Harry followed Barty’s lead, trusting him to get them in the best spot. “Malfoy!” Barty suddenly said loudly. Harry hoped he was drawing the attention of the father, but of course his life couldn’t be that easy. “I want to introduce you to Harry Potter. He’s living here with Tom.”

Harry sent Barty a withering look, well aware that at some point Barty decided he would be his entertainment for the night. To be fair, the Bellatrix-and-Tom show was probably stale for him at this point. That wasn’t going to stop Harry from setting Hedwig on him tomorrow.

“We’ve met.” Harry said dryly, still looking at Barty instead of Draco. “Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said, tone flat, but not disrespectful, “I hope you have been well since we last met?” Dear God, he was practically quoting Petunia when she was around someone she disliked. Well, if he had to pick up something from her, he supposed this was the best thing; she was really good at politely conveying her dislike of someone.

“Of course I have,” Draco sniffed haughtily, “Oxford is the best university in the world.”

“I am aware of their academic reputation, I was simply inquiring over how you are enduring the stress that being at such a competitive college must bring.”

Draco huffed. Harry noted that his nasty, middle-class aunt had more decorum and subtly than Draco seemed to have. He acted similar to Vernon or Dudley. Yes, Dudley was a good comparison. Draco was a skinny Dudley in expensive clothes. That thought served to solidify Harry’s dislike of Draco. Already he found him annoying—with his dismissal when they first met and his sneers since then—but the realization that he was rich, skinny Dudley would make it impossible for Draco to change Harry’s image of him if he ever tried. Harry could never be friendly with a Dudley. 

“I can handle it.” Draco snapped. He seemed very defensive and Harry instantly knew this was an easy button to push. “I suppose you are struggling, however.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “How do you figure?”

“You must be having so much trouble at that second-tier school that you assume anyone at a better school than you must be struggling, despite the fact that they are better than you will ever be.”

“I am not struggling, but I thank you for your concern about my health.”

“Taking only the easy classes then?” Draco did not seem to realize that grades would never anger Harry the way it did Draco. Harry was too used to Petunia and Vernon’s verbal abuse to get upset over such petty words. He did notice, however, that Draco’s increasingly desperate attacks was drawing some attention.

Great. It seemed like Barty would be getting a real show.

“I am getting my general requirements out of the way before I take any specialized classes,” Harry corrected. “So not exactly easy classes but not the most stressful either, I will admit.” He infused a bit more life into his voice, letting it sound just the slightest bit hurt to gain sympathy from those listening in, “You seem to have some sort of problem with me,” Harry frowned slightly. “Can I ask you why?”

“Because you don’t belong here,” Draco sneered. He finally noticed the audience they were gathering, but seemed to think that they all would agree with him. “You are a sham! Just look at you, it’s obvious that you are just some broke college student with none of the training or breeding to stand amongst us! The truly powerful! I am eagerly waiting for Riddle to be done with whatever game he is playing with you. You act like you belong here and I cannot wait to see you realize your true place in life: below people like us, serving us.” He finished off his angry rant.

Harry looked at Draco with a small frown. He was sure to seem unaffected, which to be honest he was, and confident. “If I’m understanding correctly, your problem with me is that I may not be as rich or high-born as you are?” He asked, making sure to emphasize just how ridiculous he found Draco’s argument. “That seems awfully petty. If that is what you find so lacking about me that you make no effort to hide your rudeness, then I must admit, I’m glad you don’t want anything to do with me because I definitely don’t want to have anything to do with you. I sure hope that you aren’t truly representative of the other people here.”

“He’s not!” A fat, old man exclaimed stepping forward, “My God, I didn’t know Lucius raised his son so poorly!” He gave a disapproving, disgusted look to Draco, “To think that you would judge someone so readily based on nothing! And a guest of Tom’s too!” The man turned to Harry wagerly, “If Tom found you worthy of attending then I have no doubt you are something special. Horace Slughorn, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Mr. Slughorn,” Harry shook his hand and smiled. He knew he had heard that name before, he just couldn’t remember from where, “Harry Potter,”

“Potter? Any relation to Fleamont Potter?” The man asked.

Harry didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to admit that his family hated him so much that they denied him any knowledge of his heritage, and he really did not want to play the orphan card but it seemed like he would have no choice.

“Unfortunately, my parents passed when I was young and my aunt, who raised me, was estranged from her sister long before my mother’s death; she did not know anything about my father’s family.” There: simple, concise, and light enough not to bring the mood down too much.

Slughorn’s smile faltered slightly then returned, bigger than before, “I must show you a picture of him! You look quite like him! I would bet anything you are related, it is really just a question of how!” He grinned conspiratorially, “We’ll figure it out.” He clasped Harry’s shoulder, “Come! I have so many people who will want to meet you!”

That was how Harry spent the next hour or so of the party, being dragged around and introduced to some very important people by a quite strange old man who would fill any gap in conversation with interesting stories about some famous person, be it a pop star, politician, or anything inbetween. Finally, they came across Tom who looked a bit anxious upon seeing Harry with Slughorn.

“Tom!” Slughorn cried jovially. Bellatrix, who was standing next to Tom (for all this time? Harry wondered), looked murderous at having her conversation interrupted, and glared at both of them. Slughorn did not notice and Harry just ignored it. “You should have introduced me to Harry earlier! Such a bright young man you have here! I can see why you took him under your wing.” Slughorn chuckled, “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow him now and then though. We got a mystery to solve,” He winked at Harry, who politely laughed,

“Mr. Slughorn has offered to help me find out more about my family.” Harry told Tom, smile wide across his face, “He thinks he may have known some of them even!”

“Please, Harry, call me Horace.” The man looked quite pleased at Harry’s gratitude. “I am sure it will be fascinating! Someone like you must have come from good stock!”

“Harry is quite special, isn’t he?” Tom looked indulgently at Slughorn. Harry was good enough at reading him that he could see the faint annoyance. “I am glad he met you. I heard something of a disturbance earlier but was in the middle of a conversation and couldn’t come over.”

“Oh, young Mr. Malfoy was just showing how even those from the best of people can be horribly disappointing.” Slughorn sighed, “Such a shame, I heard he was going to Oxford like the other men in his family. I had high hopes, but his behavior is a let-down. I can’t see him going anywhere in life. I know you are fond of Abraxas and Lucius, Tom, but I would advise you to stay away from Draco. He’s just trouble.”

“I will trust your judgement,” Tom told Slughorn. “Thank you for the warning. Now, would you mind terribly if I stole Harry away from you? I have not seen him all night.”

“Of course, of course,” Slughorn patted Tom’s arm, “I expect I will speak to you soon, Harry.”

“I hope so, Horace. It was a pleasure to meet you.” With that, Slughorn departed with a smile, wide and jolly, on his face, looking very pleased with himself.

“My lord—” Bellatrix started to say, luckily after Slughorn was out of ear range “—I thought that we were conversing.” Her voice was full of suggestion.

“I was under the impression we finished our discussion long ago, Mrs. Lestrange,” He emphasized the ‘Missus’ then led Harry away without once looking back at the woman.

“She may be a cougar but she is a hot one,” Harry said under his breath as Tom led him out to the terrace, “But you seem not the slightest bit affected,” The end of his sentence lilted up in question.

Tom shrugged. “Sex may be enjoyable on occasion but it is not something that I crave often,” He explained. “I always had an ulterior motive if I had sex with someone. With Bellatrix, it was ensuring her loyalty or punishing Rodolphus. I have no real desire for her otherwise.”

“Huh,” Harry didn’t really know how to respond to that.

Tom turned to him and smirked. “Don’t worry, precious, I desire you plenty.” Harry lightly pushed Tom. “It was lucky that you ran into Horace.”

“I know I heard that name before but I have no idea where from,” Harry said, frustrated.

“He is sometimes called the Kingmaker. More people than you can count owe their success to him. Slughorn is the center of a huge web of connections. If he thinks you are worth it, he will use those in your favor. You will, of course, become another connection for him to use in the future, but if you send gifts his way a few times a year, you can count on him pointing the right people in your direction. Alternately, if he finds fault with you, you will be hard pressed to find any place willing to hire you,” Tom explained. He shrugged lightly, understanding Harry’s questioning look. “He is part of how I became so successful in such a short period of time, not that he knows about my other business, of course. To Slughorn, and most of the people in there, I am simply a very powerful barrister.”

Harry nodded in understanding and turned to stare back at the ballroom windows, “Will the next party be so stiff and formal?”

“No. Most of the people have been connected to the Gaunt family in one way or another for generations, so many of the formalities are dropped.” Tom turned to look back at the ballroom with Harry, “Before you ask, it should be about forty-five minutes before everyone starts clearing out.” Harry sighed heavily. “We do need to get back there.”

“I know.” Harry leaned slightly into Tom, letting him take a tiny bit of his tired weight, but not so much as to make the intimacy obvious. “I’ll stick with you,” He told Tom, “Barty threw me to the wolves and I have no interest in making small talk with anyone.”

Tom agreed and nudged Harry to walk towards the ballroom with him. Fifteen minutes later, Harry wondered if he should have endured the small talk with others, being asked to contribute to Tom’s discussions was just too much. Luckily, he could already see people starting to leave. The ballroom was steadily getting less and less crowded until Tom was obliged to personally say goodbye to the few who were still there. He did not demand Harry stay behind with him, however. Harry trudged up the stairs, stripped lazily, and showered, all of his movements slow and heavy, until he finally fell into the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented!!


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